Breakfast at Tiffany's
by Mad-like
Summary: Trying to explain why Blaine and Mercedes are friends 10 years later.  This starts in parallel with Consider Me Gone so it's also trying to explain what Mercedes did during a ten year gap before she married Sam.
1. Neither One of Us

Mercedes Jones pretended to be asleep as Kurt Hummel walked softly through the sleeping girls to where she lay. He kept walking until he reached Rachel Berry. Of course he did. He gently woke Rachel and whispered something to her. She got up and the two of them left the room.

Mercedes listened to the door close and slowly counted to 100. Sure that they were gone, she went into the bathroom and started the shower. She was out for a walk, taking pictures of NYC when she spotted them, coffee and bagels in hand, leaning against a storefront, giggling like little kids. Or treacherous, backstabbing cheaters. Whichever.

Tiffany's! How many time had she watched that damn movie with him? Or course they didn't notice her a block away, they wouldn't have noticed if they tripped over her. Well, most likely they would have noticed that. She sat on a bench with a good line of sight and took a picture, or two or three.

Who should appear in the viewfinder than Sam Evans, her wannabe boyfriend? He wanted to be her boyfriend and she didn't want one. She had spent the last two years watching Glee Club relationships come together and breakup. None had involved her, unless you count Puck, but she felt a relationship should last longer than it takes to do a load of laundry in order to be counted so she didn't count Puck. She wanted a friend more than a boyfriend. Sam sat down next to her.

"What 'cha doing?"

She waved the camera at him. "How's about you?"

"Actually, I was hoping a good looking big city girl would take my picture."

"You'll have to settle for me." she took a picture. Sam did have an awfully nice looking face, if you liked wholesome faces. Mercedes couldn't figure out what Santana's problem with him was. She also couldn't figure out why Sam put up with Santana's bullshit for so long, he could probably get laid without all that aggravation.

"I'll take an upgrade from good-looking to beautiful anytime." Mercedes frowned at him, she never knew if he was joking or not when he said things like that. He laughed and she took two more pictures of him. Sam looked down the street and saw Rachel and Kurt leaning against a building.

"What are they doing?"

"Eating breakfast. At Tiffany's."

He looked at her with a blank stare. "You lost me, bro."

"It's a movie they love."

"Why aren't you there? Aren't you guys like the three Musketeers of something?" When Mercedes shrugged and Sam continued. "Have you ever seen that movie?"

"Lots of times."

"Do you like it?"

"It's okay."

"How many times did they watch the _Maltese Falcon_ with you?"

"Once. Not enough singing."

"There's no singing in the_ Maltese Falcon_."

"Well there you go, bro."

Sam noticed Kurt and Rachel walking away. He wondered if Mercedes intended to spend the day chasing them all over Manhattan. "Can I take a picture of you?" he asked holding out his hand.

"Me?" she sounded surprised.

"Yeah, why not you?" She handed him the camera. "Why are you always hiding behind this? You're like that guy in Rent, what's-his-name." He snapped a few pictures of her.

"Mark. And thank you for the analysis, Doctor."

"You're welcome. What else did you take? Can I look?"

"Knock yourself out." she looked up and saw that Kurt and Rachel were gone.

Looking at the pictures Sam could see she hadn't been stalking them. There was only a couple of pictures of them at the jewelry store. Then pictures of people and buildings between here and the hotel. Before that pictures of a pillow fight back at the hotel. There was one of Quinn, in a blizzard of feathers, laughing. He stared at it for several seconds. He'd dated her for months and had never seen that expression on her face.

"You gotta be quick to catch Q with her guard down." Mercedes said when she noticed which picture he'd stopped at.

There were several candid pictures of Quinn. "I thought you didn't like Quinn."

"Through a viewfinder is the only way I can look at her. She IS beautiful. It's like photographing a piece of sculpture. A cold, hard slab of marble."

"What did Quinn do to you? I get the Kurt thing but not the Quinn thing." Sam's family was having financial problems and Mercedes figured it was easier for him to amuse his younger brother and sister at her house than at a laundromat. He started bringing them over twice a week while he did laundry there.

Sam even knew a song about laundry. Once when she asked him if he was coming over on Thursday and he started singing "laundry day, see you there." Well, she'd had two boys sing to her. One sang "The Lady is a Tramp" and the other sang about doing laundry and a freeze ray. She hoped college would be better than high school was working out.

Sam and Mercedes talked a lot on what they called "laundry day", about everything but the "Quinn thing". Mercedes told him about throwing a rock throw Kurt's windshield. That raised his opinion of Kurt several notches in Sam's mind because that's a big thing to let slide. Sam told her about Zack, his best friend back home in Memphis.

Zack was why he understood the "Kurt thing". Sam and Zack fought more in the last month before he moved to Lima than they had the whole 5 years they'd known each other. Sam's mother said anger is an easier emotion to express than grief, which he didn't understand at the time. It was the look on her face that day Kurt announced he was going to Dalton that made him understand his mother's point. Everybody was surprised but she was more than surprised. He didn't know what that expression meant but he'd seen it once before, from Zack. When Kurt came back Rachel had obviously replaced Mercedes as "best friend" and she had to look at that every day. At least Zack didn't have to look at Sam.

"I'm in a bad mood already, we can discuss Quinn some other time. I promise."

"Okay. That's topic number 1 next laundry day." Sam said as he continued flipping though the pictures. Brittany, Santana and Quinn smiling at the camera, only not really. You could see their smiles didn't reach their eyes. Lauren laughing at something Puck said.

The guys leaving the hotel to serenade Finn and Rachel. Rachel, still dressed up from her date with Finn, looking out the hotel window, only part of her face lit by the streetlight from outside. Kurt, sitting on the bed leaning over to talk to Rachel who was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Mike and Tina in front of the Broadway subway stop. Artie out of his chair, sitting with Tina on a wall with their feet in a fountain while Tina splashed the water and they both laughed. Even though they were in a public place doing a perfectly innocent thing the picture looked intimate.

"That's going on their wedding invitation." Mercedes said.

"Really? Where's Mike going to be at this wedding?"

Mercedes shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he'll jump up at the "does anybody object" part. It would be embarrassing for Tina and Artie but I always wondered if that ever happens in real life."

More pictures. Puck and Lauren sitting at the hotel bar. Rachel and Finn talking in the hotel lobby with Quinn scowling in the background. The whole club posed in front of the "Welcome to JFK" sign at the airport. The kids getting off the plane, running past Artie who was waiting for his chair to be unloaded. Brittany and Santana holding hands in front of the glass windows at the Columbus airport.

Mr. Schuester took the airport group picture, the only one Mercedes was in. Just like that guy from Rent, Sam thought, invisible.

"Mercy, I really like this one." it was a picture taken the night before they left. A series of five pictures but number four was the best. Sam was braiding Stacy's, his younger sister, hair in the motel room they all lived in. Sam was holding up the braid and looking pleased. Stacy was looking at the camera, smiling. The only light in the picture came from the TV. In the back you could barely see his sleeping brother's blonde hair. "Can you email me this one?"

"Sure. Why are you here, by the way?"

"I missed you at breakfast." In addition to the fact that he enjoyed her company he wanted to have lunch with Mercedes because she sensible about money. Since the onset of his financial problems he had just started realizing how McKinley kids dropped money like it was nothing. Mercedes wasn't poor, far from it, but her dad didn't feel obligated to pay for everything Mercedes wanted to buy. Her dad was big on teaching her the difference between wants and needs. And a new guitar for Mercedes definitely fell in the wants category so she had to save up for it.

"Awwww, that' so sweet! Why didn't you just call?"

"That would require you have one of these." He handed her the cell phone she left behind at the hotel and stood up. "Let's go back."

"Why? They'll pick something for Finn and Rachel to sing and the rest of us will just sway in the background. I've had plenty of practice doing that. Know what? I noticed a music store a couple of blocks back. Let go look. Maybe it's open by now." She scanned her cell phone. She read a few of the texts, answered even fewer, and turned the phone off before tossing it in her purse.

* * *

><p>They were browsing the music store when Mr. Schuester called Sam looking for Mercedes and announcing a 11am rehearsal. "Tell him I'm sick. Sick of him – don't add that last part."<p>

"Okay, thank you Mr. Schuester." Sam hung up. "He said he hopes you're feeling better later."

"Or at least well enough so that they can field at least 12 people."

"I thought you liked Mr. Schuester and Glee Club."

She picked up a CD. "I used to until Jessee St. Jerk called me lazy and Schue just sat there. You don't have to be Nostradamus to know Rachel is going to be singing lead. I'm obviously not what he considers front-row material. It's always Rachel and Finn. Finn can't even sing, but I guess Schue likes the way he looks with Rachel. I could kill Kurt right now but I'd rather see him there than Finn."

"Why do you think Mr. Schuester doesn't like you?"

"I guess it's nothing personal. He likes pretty and skinny. I'm not that girl." she continued looking through the music.

"He's wrong about Finn and he's wrong about you. You're beautiful and sound different from everybody else. Nobody pays any attention to you. You know how many people think you're named after a car? Mercedes, mercies, that's you, the nicest girl I know. Perfect girlfriend material."

"Thanks, but from what I can see you have a pretty specific taste in girls. Was you girlfriend back home a cheerleader?"

"Dance squad." he admitted.

"Uh hum. Didn't have to be psychic to see that either."

"Well, I'm switching to whatever type you are."

* * *

><p>New Directions arrived back at the hotel from rehearsal, tired and hungry, when Kurt noticed a familiar voice singing in the bar.<p>

"Be up in a minute." he said jumping out of the elevator.

"Me too!" Rachel got out just before the doors closed. "What's up?"

"Listen." He said leading the way to the lounge. Mercedes was playing a baby grand, singing slowing and softly. Sam was singing alternating verses.

"worry, why do I let myself worry  
>wondering, what in the world did I do?<p>

crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you  
>I'm crazy for crying, I'm crazy for trying<br>I'm crazy for loving you"

Rachel coughed loudly. Mercedes looked up but finished the song. The man sitting at the bar put $20 in their tip jar, a brandy snifter in this case, before leaving. It looked like they had a profitable afternoon.

"I see you recovered." Rachel said dryly. She was pissed off but Mercedes didn't care.

"Feeling much better" she said sweetly. "We're taking requests." She looked at Kurt for a minute. "No, wait! I've got one."

Kurt couldn't believe that Mercedes and Sam had blown off rehearsals to hang around doing god knows what all day, that was so unlike her. Another question suddenly entered his mind, what was Mercedes like these days? They were supposed to be friends, best friends, but between Dalton, Blaine and Rachel he hadn't spent more than 10 minutes alone with her in months. He looked at her as she played. He noticed the way Sam was looking at her, like she was a bowl of chocolate mousse. He noticed Rachel was surprised enough by Mercedes' behavior to shut up for a change.

It's sad to think we're not gonna make it  
>And it's gotten to the point<br>Where we just can't fake it  
>For some ungodly reason<br>We just won't let it be

I guess neither one of us wants to be the first to say good-bye

I keep wondering  
>What I'm gonna do without you<br>And I guess you must be wondering the same thing too  
>So we go on together<br>Living a lie

Because neither one of us  
>Wants to be the first to say good-bye<p>

Every time I find the nerve to say I'm leaving  
>Memories<br>Those old memories get in my way  
>Lord knows it's only me<br>That I'm deceiving  
>When it comes to saying good-bye<br>That a simple word that I just cannot say

There can be no way  
>This can have a happy ending<br>So we just go on  
>Hurting and pretending<br>Convincing ourselves to give it just one more try

Because I guess neither one of us  
>Wants to be the first to say it<p>

Neither one of us wants to be the first to say

Farewell my love  
>Goodbye<p>

When she looked up Kurt was sitting on the piano bench next to her. He gently touched her arm. "Talk to me."

"About what?"

"About what you just sang."

"How was breakfast?"

"Fine." he answered automatically, confused by the sudden shift in topic.

"Anything unusual happen? Go anywhere special?"

He thought for a few minutes before answering. "You know about Tiffany's?"

"Yeah, I do. And I know why. She's your best friend. I'm not. Not anymore. You seem happy so I'm happy for you. This morning was kinda like when you went to Dalton. I just wish you would have said goodbye to me first instead of just announcing to whole class you were leaving. I know you had a lot going on then, though I didn't know what at the time. I guess Rachel knew about it. Anyway, back then is when I started thinking maybe this was over. This morning, well, that's just the 'let's stop pretending' part." she stood up. "So, anyway..goodbye, Kurt."

Kurt watched her walk through the hotel lobby. Rachel followed her out.

"A couple of weeks ago," Sam said, sitting down next to Kurt at the piano, "she was all excited that you were coming over to watch Dr. Horrible. What did you think of it?"

"Huh?" what was he talking about?

"I said," he repeated slowly, "you were supposed to go to her house and watch Dr. Horrible. She was looking forward to it. She never mentioned it again. What happened?"

"I had to postpone it."

"Oh. Did you ever make it over there?"

"No. It's just between Blaine and Rachel..." Damn, that sounded pathetic. "She said she understood."

"Well, what else could she say?" Sam said standing up. "Tell Mr. Schuster we'll be up in a few minutes."

* * *

><p>Kurt replayed the scene in his mind. They were standing at her locker. She was happy. "Just like old times." she kept saying. "Just the two of us. I know you like to spend weekends with Blaine, Dalton's so far away and all, but I figured after practice on a Tuesday, and Dr. Horrible's only an hour. We'll have time to talk like we used to."<p>

Rachel walked up. "Don't forget, Kurt. We have to leave right after practice to get there in time."

"Get where?" Mercedes asked, looking suspicious.

"It's a one day one showing about Patti LuPone at the art gallery. I think I can get another ticket if you want to go."

"Tonight?" she asked. Rachel smiled and nodded. "I have plans for tonight." Mercedes said, looking at Kurt. Don't we have plans for tonight, her look said.

Please, please, please say it's okay if I go, his look said. It's one night only and we can watch Dr. Horrible anytime. Please.

"Just go." she said, turning to look for something in her locker. "We'll watch it some other time."

"You sure, Cedes?"

"You really want to go with her. Go. Have fun." He could barely hear her because whatever she was looking for was in the very back of her locker. Rachel took his arm and practically dragged him away, they were going to be late for practice. Had Mercedes skipped practice that day? Kurt couldn't remember if she was there or not.

She asked him the next day if he had enjoyed the showing. He told her all about it, even showed her the program book. He totally forgot about Dr. Horrible, or to ask if she had done anything instead, until Sam mentioned it just now.

* * *

><p>Laundry Day aka Freeze Ray is from Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog<p>

Crazy is Willie Nelson

Neither One of Us is Gladys Knight


	2. A Light in the Attic

_A Light in the Attic_. Mercedes hadn't seen that book for years and here it was at the local thrift store. Good old Shel Silverstein. She reached for it but was too slow. The book was grabbed by a tanned boy with wild curly hair. He opened the book, looking for something. He laughed softly so Mercedes guessed it was his favorite book too. The boy looked familiar but not quite right. Her photography teacher kept saying concentrate on the face, the bone structure, the eyes, ignore everything else so she tried that. She could see that face in a preppy suit with slicked back hair.

"Blaine! I didn't recognize you! How are you? Do you shop here a lot?."

"No, I just noticed it the other day." He said in a "how do I know you?" kind of way. She laughed because she knew she looked a lot different than the last time he saw her. She decided to throw him a hint.

"Is Kurt here with you?"

"No, not exactly his kind of place." Okay, so this was somebody from McKinley. Mercedes? No, can't be. The hair was wrong, the clothes were wrong, the weight's all wrong. He closed his eyes and listened. She knew he didn't know who she was and starting talking about Shel Silverstein and how this was her favorite book, not counting _The Giving Tree_. "Mercedes? You look great! What happened?"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." she laughed. "Fat camp happened. Lost 20 pounds, mostly hair." she said running her hands through her now short, curly hair. It had been long and straight the last time he saw her. "Like your hair, by the way. Is that permanent or just for the summer?"

"At least until the end of summer." Now, what was her 'secret' boyfriend's name. Blaine was not a big believer in secret boyfriends but they had seemed happy enough when he saw them at the beginning of the summer. Of course secret boyfriends always start out as big fun, don't they? Sam. "How's Sam?"

"I don't know, you'd have to ask Quinn that question."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He wasn't exactly sure who Quinn was or even if Quinn was a he or a she. He'd have to ask Kurt.

"Well, my grandmother used to always say "If a relationship NEEDS to be a secret you don't NEED to be in it." I guess this is what she was talking about. Anyway, it's not like I didn't see it coming. I could never figure out why I had to be a secret, and Lord knows I tried. Santana wasn't a secret, Quinn wasn't a secret. Well, I guess she was a secret the second time. Anyway..." Neither one of them knew what to say next. "Well, tell Kurt I said hi." she started to walk away but returned. "Speaking of Kurt, make sure you check out the jewelry section. Let me show you. This place is great for cuff-links and old-fashioned stuff people never wear anymore. I used to buy his presents here all the time. Vintage – that sounds ever so much nicer than used, don't you think?" They were standing closer to the door now. "And if you see Rachel, tell her I said hi. See you." She said leaving the store.

He was driving towards Kurt's house a half hour later when he saw her walking a bike with a flat tire down the street.

"Hi, do you need a ride?" he said pulling over.

"Thanks, but I'm only three blocks from home."

"I didn't realize you lived so close to Kurt."

"Lima's not that big. It's nothing compared to Toledo. That's where you're from, right?"

"Yes, I live at Dalton during the school year but my mother's in Toledo and my father's in Columbus."

"I thought Kurt said something like that. You know what? You can do me a favor. I need to send something to him. Make a right at the corner and down two blocks. 1817. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

Blaine sat on the front porch and waited while she walked the distance. Between the weight loss, hair cut and the clothes she was almost unrecognizable. She and Kurt were supposedly shopping buddies but Blaine could never visualize that. First, Kurt was an Olympic level shopper – marathon division whereas Blaine was more of a sprinter. Blaine loved the boy but avoided shopping with him. Kurt could happily look at hundreds of blue shirts. Blaine would check the sale rack and if that failed buy whatever was closet to the cash register. Five minutes was his goal. Mercedes, the old Mercedes, didn't dress like the kind of person who would enjoy Kurt's idea of shopping. Frankly, she dressed like a person who put a priority on clean and comfortable and didn't much care how she looked. This new Mercedes was dressed in jeans and a longish white top, tasteful and flattering. Maybe she learned that in fat camp.

* * *

><p>"Flowers? You didn't have to do that. You're not THAT late." Kurt took the bouquet of flowers Blaine handed him. "Hydrangeas! I love these. Did you know you can tell how acidic the soil is by the color? Mercedes' grandmother used to grow these, that's how I know about the color. Thank you." Kurt kissed him like he hadn't see Blaine in weeks.<p>

"You can thank Mercedes. She sent them. And this." he said handing Kurt a manila envelope.

"Where did you see Mercedes?" He flipped though the photographs in the envelope.

"In town. Remember that thrift store I mentioned the other day? The book selection there is pretty good."

"Oh." He was looking at a picture of him and Rachel laughing in front of Tiffany's. "I'm surprised she kept this. On the other hand, it's a nice composition. That must be some lens on her camera, we didn't even see her. How's Sam?"

"They broke up."

"Really? They seemed so happy."

"That was months ago, that time we saw them in the coffee shop. Being in a relationship where you make out in the moonlight who somebody who pretends they don't know in in the daylight isn't the easiest thing in the world."

Kurt could be pretty clueless but something in Blaine's voice caught his attention. He put down the pictures and sat down on the sofa next to Blaine. Blaine leaned his head against the taller boy's shoulder. "Remember I told you once I was never anybody's boyfriend? Once I thought I was. I wasn't out then so the secret part made sense. Anyway, once he got what he wanted the whole thing was over." He took a deep breath. "I didn't know you that well back then, that's why I said it that way. And then, later...I didn't know what you'd think."

"I think...I think that guy was a fool to be handed something priceless like that and to treat it like garbage. I think there's nothing in your past that would make me stop loving you. I think as long as we keep talking to each other we'll be okay. I think I'm lucky to have a boyfriend who trusts me so much. I think- "

"I love you Kurt." Blaine's head was still resting on Kurt's shoulder. Blaine's impossibly wild hair smelled of whatever mango coconut concoction he used on it. Kurt waited until he heard Blaine sigh deeply. "Anyway, that's why I came out. I wanted the next time, the first time that really counted, to be with somebody who wasn't ashamed of who he was and who I was."

"Blaine, look at me and promise me something." He waited until Blaine's brown eyes were locked on his blue eyes. "I know you didn't want to go to the prom, and you definitely didn't want to stay after the prom queen thing. I know you did that for me. If you ever need, or want, me to do something for you, or need me to stop doing something that bothers you, tell me and we'll work it out. I think that's how I messed up with Mercedes so badly. I just assumed she liked doing whatever I wanted to do because she never objected. I think she didn't feel like she could ask for anything and just assumed I didn't care because I never asked her what she wanted. Please. Ask. Promise?"

"I promise." Blaine smiled and kissed him. "Speaking of Mercedes, she also sent this." He pulled a handful of leaves from his bag. "She said I sounded 'scratchy', whatever that means, and you'd know what to do. You're not going to make a love potion, are you? Because it's too late."

"As if I have to resort to that." He pulled off a leaf and crushed it between his fingers. "What do you smell?" he said holding his hand under Blaine's nose.

"Lemon?" he guessed. He grabbed Kurt's hand and kissed his fingers.

"Right, It's called lemon balm. She's right, you do sound scratchy, like you're getting a cold, and all I need is water and honey. Another Grandma Jones specialty. So, what did Mercedes think of your hair?"

"She thinks it's magnificent. Have you seen her lately?"

"Not since that day in the coffee shop. I tried to call her a couple of times. Either she's avoiding me or she's really out of town. Why?"

"She really was out of town. She wants to take a portrait of us. She says the hair and tan make me look exotic, "All South Pacific" she said. She made me promise to let her document it if I get it cut. She's building a portfolio for college admission."

"Art, not music?"

"That's what she said. She's back so you could call her sometime and ask her yourself."

"I'll stop over later to thank her for the pictures."

* * *

><p>A Light in the Attic is a book of poetry by Shel Silverstein<p>

FF_2947886_ - Page 5 of 5 - Word Count: 1696


	3. Welcome to Lima!

"Suppose they don't like me."

"Of course they'll like you. Who doesn't like you?"

"I know a couple of people who don't like me."

"Okay, who in their right mind doesn't like you? Mercedes once told me it takes too much effort not to like you."

"Well.."

"They like me and you're more likeable than I am."

"They know you. That's why they like you. I thought you said they were religious, maybe gay people are against their religious beliefs."

"They're not that kind of religious. You need help, they'll help you. They're that kind of religious."

"Kurt, this whole thing is so messed up."

"I know it is. I'm really sorry I got you into trouble."

"I don't blame you for any of this. You know that don't you?" Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand. "I asked you to stay past curfew, I mouthed off to my father, this is all my fault."

"Blaine, this is going to be okay. If they say no we'll talk to my dad. He'll help as much as he can."

"I love you, Kurt." Blaine sighed and looked at the Jones' front door. "Okay, let's do this."

"I love you. Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Kurt! It's so good to see you again!" she said hugging him. "It's been months. You must have grown a foot." Mrs Jones was a taller, thinner version of Mercedes. Blaine noticed the slightest hint of a Caribbean accent.<p>

"And you must be Blaine. You can call me Ms. Rita, most of my children's friends do." she shock his hand. "Well, why don't you have a seat and explain your problem?"

"Well, Mrs. Jones," Blaine said perching on the edge of his chair, "I used to go to Dalton Academy. It's a private school near Columbus. It's quite expensive and my father decided he didn't want to pay the tuition anymore."

"He decided that after the school year started?"

"We had a disagreement. To be honest he didn't approve of my relationship with Kurt. I'm gay, ma'am, if that makes a difference to you."

"Kurt's an old family friend. If you have a committed relationship with Kurt that's fine. If he's just a fling, that would be a problem for me personally."

"No ma'am. Kurt and I are serious." Kurt squeezed his hand.

"That's good. Your parents insisted that you leave their house?"

"My father and stepmother. My mother lives in Toledo. I could go there but I'd rather move to Lima."

"Did your father ask you where you were going to live?"

"No, he doesn't care. He..." he paused. "He doesn't care where I go."

"And your mother?"

"She wants me to come to Toledo. She asked if she could talk to you." That was news to Kurt.

"Yes, I'd like to talk to her. How old are you, Blaine?"

"Seventeen, ma'am."

She seemed to have made up her mind. "Kurt, I think I hear Mercedes in the kitchen. May Blaine and I have a minute alone?"

* * *

><p>This was getting old, even her own mother had ditched her to hang out with Kurt. Of course, if her mother had gone to the farmer's market Mercedes would have had to answer uncomfortable questions on the topic of Sam Evans. Yeah, that would have been worse.<p>

She wondered why Kurt was there, maybe he finally pushed Burt too far. Bound to happen one day. She had half a mind to hide behind the kitchen door and eavesdrop on their conversation. Unfortunately she wasn't raised that way. On the other hand, she thought, she'd done things with Sam she hadn't been raised to do. She was still pondering when Kurt walked into the kitchen.

"Hello, Kurt." Mercedes said, continuing to put away the groceries. He couldn't possibly be there to visit her. "Saw your car outside. What brings you here?"

"Hello, Mercedes. Blaine brings me here." Kurt was getting used to Mercedes' new coolness towards him.

"Blaine? Isn't he at Dalton?"

"Not anymore. Long story. We were hoping he could stay here."

"Here?" she stopped and stared at the bag of Brussel sprouts in her hand. Disgusting. Tater tots were a personal affront to her dad these days. He made a point of reminding her how much camp cost and that he wasn't paying for her bad habits. "What happened to his parents?"

"His dad let him know he's not welcome there. His Mom's too far away, all the way in Toledo."

"And your house?"

"Plan B. I'm not sure if my dad will want so much temptation so close."

"As long as he's not in legal trouble they'll let him stay. I better move my extra stuff out of Marcus' room. When is this going to happen?"

"As soon as your mother finishes talking to my mother." Blaine said walking into the kitchen.

"Well, welcome roomie. Let me show you the room, you guys can help me move stuff out. I moved up to the attic so you won't be getting off easy."

* * *

><p>Blaine sat on the edge of the bed in the strange room and mentally prepared to start the second part of this life. Not the second half, he hoped, he was only 17. Starting over, he'd had practice doing that. Five years ago he sat on a strange bed and started over at Dalton. Now he was starting over at the Jones house. Next year he'd be at NYU. Starting over.<p>

This room was bigger than his dorm room at Dalton and his alone. Plus. It was walking distance to Kurt's house. Big plus. The Joneses were nice and not too nosy. Mrs. Jones only wanted to know if he had something to say he didn't feel comfortable saying in front of Kurt. Plus. He no longer had a car. Big minus. He needed to find a job in Lima. Minus. They didn't mind that he was a vegetarian and agreed to buy anything he was willing to cook. Plus for buying food, neutral for cooking.

He looked out the window. His new room faced the back yard. He could see Mercedes and her mother sitting in a fenced garden section. Her mother had her arm around her, they were talking. The way parents are supposed to treat their kids.

His phone rang.

"Hey, honey."

"Hi, mom."

"How are you doing?"

"Okay. I'll be okay."

"So, how is it there?"

"It's good, really good. Thank you. Thank you for letting me stay here."

"You know you can always come to Toledo, if you don't like it there."

"I know. I think I'm going to like it here. You can probably come and visit, I think they have room. I'll check."

"As a matter of fact, Rita already invited me. I'll be down on Saturday. Can I bring you anything?"

"Well," he hesitated, "they eat meat here."

"Most people do." She said laughing.

"I know." he laughed for the first time all day. "Can you please bring a cookbook?"

"Sure, baby. If you need anything just call me. Anytime. I'll see you on Saturday. By the way, now that you're not wearing a uniform everyday we'll have to go shopping." She paused. "You can bring your friend along."

"Kurt?"

"Yes, he seems to have good taste."

"He's got expensive taste. Anyway, you don't like Kurt."

"It's not a matter of like or don't like. You loved it at Dalton, if you're willing to give that up for Kurt then I guess I'd better get used to him."

"Thanks, I love you, mom."

"I love you, too. See you Saturday."

FF_2947886_ - Page 5 of 5 - Word Count: 1144


	4. Hallelujah

"Blaine, can you stay after class for a few minutes?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Peterson."

Mercedes looked up from her poetry assignment. B+. Damned good grade from Mr. Peterson. "Meet me in the music room after my lesson and I'll give you a ride home." she said leaving the room.

"Thanks."

"Blaine, this poem is very good." Mr. Peterson said handing him a paper marked A+.

"Thank you, sir."

"Have you ever thought of publishing your work? There's a literary magazine here and I'd like to print this."

"This?" Blaine looked at the paper in his hand. It was an old poem, he'd written it right before he want to Dalton. He'd only handed it in because he forgot about the assignment until Mercedes mentioned it that morning and he didn't have time to write something else. "Can I think about it?"

"Yes. It can be published without your name, if that helps you to decide."

"Thank you sir." he said leaving the classroom.

In the music room, Ali was showing Mercedes an impossibly complicated guitar riff. Nine out of ten advanced guitarists couldn't handle that piece, it was totally beyond Mercedes and both girls were getting irritated. He noticed Mercedes' other guitar teacher, Tim, sitting on the opposite side of the room. Blaine couldn't remember exactly why Mercedes had two guitar teachers, some complicated story that indirectly involved Sam Evans. It was an odd story and he'd written it down at the time but couldn't remember exactly what the story was.

"Hey." Tim said.

"Hi. Who picked that piece?"

"Alice. I like Alice, if I were straight, or even bi... but she's the world's worst teacher. No patience. I'm waiting for Mercedes to take a swing at her, trying to decide who would need rescuing, Mercedes has power, Alice has speed. It's strange that they're not really friends, they're both looking for something, not sure what. Whatever they're looking for they're probably not going to find at McKinley. Shame really, they're both pretty girls - one all golden brown the other all hot chocolate. Unfortunately guys don't go for exotic around here."

Blaine contemplated that last part. Tim was pretty exotic looking himself, very south Asian looking. "Aren't you gay? And doesn't she prefer to be called Ali?"

"If she wants to keep changing her name that's her business. Alyce, with a y mind you, Al, Ali. I can't keep up." He looked at the two girls. "And I'm gay, not blind. Can't deny that they're good-looking girls but I don't want to sleep with either of them. Besides, coming out was too much drama, and I hate drama. Can't go back to my old man and say, 'you were right'. Not starting round two of that fight, I just barely avoided getting sent to Manila at the end of the first round."

"Manila?"

"My grandparents are there. To hear my dad tell it there are no gay people in the Philippines. My mom's from West Virginia and called him on that. If there's gay people in West Virginia, she said, there's got to be one or two in Manila. That kind of made me want to go see."

"I thought you were going out with her brother."

"Ben. Used to. I lost him to the bright lights of LA. He's staying out there."

"Sorry about that."

"That's life. How's your boyfriend?"

"Good, Kurt's good."

"That's good." he didn't sound like he really meant it. "Now that's interesting." he was watching the two girls. They had stopped arguing and were looking at the bracelet Ali was wearing. Ali was laughing. Then she played a different piece slowly enough for Mercedes to follow.

* * *

><p>"Can I ask you a question?"<p>

"You can ask as many as you want, since 'Can I ask you a question?' counts as a question." Mercedes pointed to the chair next to her.

Damn, Kurt wished Mercedes would get back to normal. Back in the day she would close the book she was looking at and give him her undivided attention. Actually, back then she would have waved wildly the minute she saw him walk into the library, instead of looking up and then back down at her book. In addition, since Nationals she had all kinds of smart-ass comments. Well, she was the only person who could help him so he had to put up with it.

"Do you think Blaine is interested in somebody else?" Kurt asked, getting right to his point.

That got her attention because she closed the book of photographs she was looking at. "Blaine? Hell no. He's as loyal as a puppy."

"But he seems distracted and distant lately."

"Maybe something's on his mind. He's like that sometimes – all mysterious about nothing."

"Never with me" He paused and looked down at his hands. "He seems to spend a lot of time with Tim lately."

"Tim? Tim flirts with everybody, even me." she said, as if flirting with her was irrefutable proof of insincerity. "There's nothing going..." she paused.

"What?"

"Nothing! I'm sure it's nothing."

"What?"

"Well, Tim's teaching me to play the guitar, or at least he's giving it his best shot. Usually we practice here. Last week he wanted to work at my house. We finished, he left – or at least I thought he left but he was still there for dinner. I did the dishes and he was still there, talking to Blaine in his room."

"Door open or closed?"

"Open. They were just sitting there, talking."

"What time did he leave?"

"I don't know. It's not like I tuck Blaine in at night. And no, Tim wasn't there at breakfast. I swear, they were just talking."

"Talking. That's how it starts. Why isn't Blaine talking to me?"

"I don't know. Did you ask him?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. And he said it's nothing."

"Well, maybe it is nothing, or maybe..."

"What?"

"I just had a thought. Maybe this is about his dad."

"His dad?"

"Yeah. You don't know Tim that well but when he came out his dad was a real ass about it. Not as bad as Blaine's dad but still an ass. Well, seeing how things turned out, maybe it was Blaine's stepmother who was the ass in the family. I mean, finding out from a friend that you dad died? And reading in the paper that he'd been in hospice for a month and nobody called so you could say goodbye to the man? And your 3 year old step-brothers are named as survivorsin the official obit and you're not? That had to sting. It was bad when my parents died last year, but that's the coldest thing I ever heard. Ice cold."

"His dad died?" Kurt was shocked. "He told you, he told Tim and he didn't tell me?"

Shit, how could Blaine have not told Kurt about his dad? That was crazy. "I told you he gets unnecessarily mysterious about things. You really need to be having this conversation with him. I thought you knew about his dad. I can't think of a reason why he didn't tell you. I was going to Columbus for a birthday party Devi was throwing for Marcus. Blaine asked for a ride." Marcus was her older brother, a math professor at Ohio state. Devi was his wife.

* * *

><p><em>The 90 miles between Lima and Columbus rolled under her wheels. Blaine was staring out the window. Mercedes tried to talk to him but it was no use. She put on some music and sang along. Blaine may be on a secret mission but Mercedes didn't have to maintain radio silence all the way to Columbus. And she loved this song.<br>_

_while this town is busy sleeping_  
><em>all the noises died away<em>  
><em>i walk the streets to stop my weeping<em>  
><em>'cause he'll never change his ways<em>

_don't fool yourself_  
><em>he was heartache from the moment that you met him<em>  
><em>my heart feels so still<em>  
><em>as i try to find the will to forget him somehow<em>  
><em>oh i think I've forgotten him now<em>

_his love is a rose pale and dying_  
><em>dropping his petals on men unknown<em>  
><em>all full of wine the world before him<em>  
><em>or sober with no place to go<em>

_don't fool yourself..._

_"What's this we're listening to?" Blaine asked._

_"Ali showing off."_

_"That's Ali? Her singing voice is a lot different than her speaking voice."_

_"Sorry, that's Tim pining away for Ben. Ali's playing the guitar. They're on a Jeff Buckley kick."  
><em>

_"Oh. You know where St. Ann's is?"_

_"Sure. It's near Marcus."_

_"Can you drop me off there, at the cemetery?"_

_"Sure. Going to a funeral?"_

_"No, the funeral was two weeks ago. I just found out and want to go pay my respects."_

_"I'm sorry. Somebody in your family?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Close relative?"_

_"We used to be close."_

_"Do you want me to wait? Or pick you up later?"_

_"No, thank you. I can walk over later. It's not that far."_

_"Will your dad be there?"_

_"I assume so."_

_"Well, maybe you'll get a chance to talk to him."_

_"Kinda Hamlet, don't you think, considering that he's the dearly departed."_

_Luckily they were stopped at a light. "Your dad died two weeks ago and you're just hearing about it?" she stared at him. That's freaking impossible._

_"Yep. That woman must really hate me."_

_"What woman?"_

_"My father's wife. Or widow I should say."  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Then the light changed and he stopped talking. So I waited for him there and he came to the party with me. I thought it was wrong to just leave him there. So it's not like we were having a heart-to-heart chat when he told me and he never mentioned it again. I looked up the obituary later." Kurt looked like he was shocked that Blaine hadn't mentioned any of this. "Listen, why don't you come over for dinner tonight? Maybe he'll be more comfortable there. You can spend the night if you want."<p>

That turned out to be not such a great idea. Blaine disappeared after dinner, politely declining Kurt's offer to go for a walk.

"Well, we could watch Dr. Horrible." Kurt said as he watched Blaine leave. "I promised you that months ago and never did."

"I don't think so. I've seen it a couple of times, know how it ends and I always cry anyway. The ending's really sad, the last 30 seconds will break your heart."

"It's sad hanging around waiting for Blaine to come back. Can you play something for me? I want to send him one last song."

There was a time when you let me know  
>What's really going on below<br>But now you never show it to me, do you?  
>And remember when I moved in you<br>The holy dark was moving too  
>And every breath we drew was Hallelujah<p>

Hallelujah, Hallelujah  
>Hallelujah, Hallelujah<p>

I did my best, it wasn't much  
>I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch<br>I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you  
>And even though it all went wrong<br>I'll stand before the Lord of Song  
>With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah<p>

Kurt hit the send button. "Well, that's done. I'm going to sleep."

Mercedes was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, watching Kurt apply his creams and lotions. "If you have to do all that now, what's going to happen 10 years from now?"

Kurt laughed. "Blaine asked me the same thing. We were in Toledo cat-sitting for his mom." He looked into the mirror and frowned. "I wish, if he had to dump me like this, he'd done it before we...well, you know."

"Not really. Wait! You and Blaine had sex?" She thought "remember when I moved to you" was a reference to that time Blaine said "you move me".. Damn, he's gotten so literal lately.

"Yes, Blaine and I did."

"Not here, I hope." She didn't want to visual the two of them reenacting Brokeback Mountain on the living room sofa.

"No, Toledo." He sat beside her on the edge of the tub.

* * *

><p><em>He hadn't intended to discuss it with her, nobody else knew about it, but the setting was similar to this. He was getting ready for bed, Blaine was sitting on the edge of the tub.<em>

_"You don't have to do that, you're beautiful already."_

_"When I'm old and winkled you'll wish I had."_

_"When you're old and winkled I'll be older and winkledier" he laughed. "Anyway, you'll still be beautiful."_

_"Like Dorian Gray?"_

_"Hope not, he was a horrible person. Pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside. That was the point of the story. You could never be like Dorian Gray. You're beautiful to the core."_

_Blaine walked over and put his arms around Kurt's waist. "You'll be the best looking man in the old folks home. I'll have to beat them off you with my cane." He kissed the back of Kurt's neck. "Hey, do you mind if I take a shower?"_

_"No, I'll be done in a minute."_

_"What I meant," he said shyly "was, well I thought maybe we could take one together." He said it in a tone that said "you can say no and we'll both pretend it was a joke."_

_"Well," Kurt started._

_"Just kid -"_

_"Well," he interrupted, "I think I would like that."_

_"You sure? You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean..."_

_"I know what you mean and I want to."_

_None of his fantasies about Blaine, even the ones that included bathtubs and showers, never included washing his hair. Kurt remembered the feel of Blaine's heavy, wet hair. How long his hair really is these days...  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Well, was it what you expected? Not the mechanics but the emotional part?" she asked, pulling him away from the memory. Kurt looked dangerously close to TMI-land so she wanted to be specific about what she was asking him.<p>

"It was better than I expected and the best part was, after, we talked. We talked for two hours. What happened, what it meant, what we mean to each other. Now, I don't know anymore. I don't know if Blaine meant any of what he said."

This was why she'd been avoiding Kurt. Mercedes was sure it was mostly his fault they were no longer best friends, He'd taken her for granted and ran off with Rachel Berry. Rachel Berry of all people! They had agreed that they both hated her. But times like this, when he looked so pathetic, she couldn't help wanting to make him feel better. That was her weak spot when it came to Kurt. She put her arm around him.

"If you meant what you said that will have to be good enough. I'd like to think Blaine has an explanation for all this. But if it was a mistake, if under that polished exterior beats the heart of a lying rat bastard and you fell for it, well, welcome to the club."

"Is that why you broke up with Sam, you realized the whole thing was a mistake?"

"Maybe not the whole thing, but I made a mistake. My mistake was thinking he loved me, even though he never said it, and that if I showed him how much I loved him he'd say it. Turns out he didn't say it because he didn't feel it. He's honest, I'll give him that." He was looking at her and smiled sadly. She smiled back. "Listen, we can't hang out in the bathroom all night waiting for Blaine. We might as well go to sleep."

Mercedes listened while Kurt tossed and turned before finally falling asleep. She checked the time when Blaine came back, 12:30. She intended to talk to him right now but dozed off, waking up at 2am. There was a sliver of light shining under Blaine's bedroom door.

"Blaine, it's me, Mercedes. Can I speak to you?"

"Is something wrong?" he opened the door. He was still dressed and his journal was laying open on the bed in front of him.

"Yes and no. To get right to the point, what's going on between you and Kurt, as in why aren't you talking to him?"

"I talk to him." Blaine sat on the bed and closed the journal. "Everything's fine."

"Why doesn't Kurt think that?"

"I don't know."

"You know what he thinks? He thinks you just wanted to get laid and everything else is fake."

"He told you about that too?" he seemed angry.

"He talked to me because you won't talk to him. He's scared. And anyway, what's he supposed to think? If you're going to dump him for Tim, at least tell him to his face."

"Dump him for Tim? Tim understands about my father. Kurt can't, he doesn't realize how lucky he is."

"Lucky?"

"Lucky! Burt loves him, there's nothing Kurt could say or do to change that. If he had to choose between Kurt and Carole is there any question who he'd pick? And money! He gives Kurt tons of money. I have to think about what things cost, how to make some money. He acts like that's crazy, like I should just take money from him, let him pay for things."

"Did you tell him that?"

"I tried. He doesn't get it."

"Well," she hesitated, "do you love him?"

"Completely."

"Then try telling him again."

"I'll tell him in the morning."

"It can't wait. Wake him up!"

"I can't wake him up now. It's 2 in the morning."

"I'm already up." Kurt said from the hallway. "Thirsty. Sorry, didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Mercedes left them sitting on the bed, closing the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Forget Her - Jeff Buckley<p>

Hallelujah - Leonard Cohen**  
><strong>

FF_2947886_ - Page 9 of 9 - Word Count: 2234


	5. I'm Not That Girl

She'd only started hanging out with Mercedes recently, so Tina Cohen-Chang was surprised to get a phone call at 6am asking her to come over, that there was an accident involving Mercedes' parents. Tina was greeted by a house full of mostly women, women of every ethnic persuasion. Women from their church, her sister-in-law Devi who was Indian, and Blaine's mother, who was Latino. None of the women recognized her, just as she didn't know who any of them were. She recognized Devi from the picture hanging in the living room. Blaine was standing next to his mother and you could see they were related. Kurt's step-mother she had met before. It was Carole Hummel who came over and hugged her.

"Hi, Tina. Thanks for coming over. She's in her room with Kurt. You can go on up."

Mercedes was sitting on her bed, looking at a photo album with Kurt when Tina walked in. Tina remembered they knew each other before McKinley but hadn't realized how far back they went. Here they were, sitting in a bathtub. Here there were being pushed in swings by their mothers. Tina had seen Mrs. Jones several times, this was her first time seeing Kurt's mother. She was a beautiful woman in an old-fashioned way and he looked just like her, especially when he was younger. Now they were looking at a picture of the four parents at a party or something. Mercedes lightly touched her parent's faces, then Kurt's mother. She closed the book. "Thank you, Kurt. Can I talk to Tina for a few minutes?"

He kissed her on the forehead before leaving. "Call me if you need anything."

Mercedes looked at Tina and wondered why had she called her. When Kurt showed up she figured Blaine must have called him. She should call somebody, she thought, but who? Kurt had been her only close friend, and she'd spent the last year trying to fill the hole in her days, and in her heart, since he'd left for Dalton. That's what she had hoped Sam would be, a friend to replace Kurt. Well, that was the plan. Mice and men and best laid plans.

Mercedes had volunteer work, she had guitar lessons. Ali and Tim helped fill the time but Ali was too much like Rachel for her taste. Driven, and she couldn't understand why everybody else wasn't. Tim, on the other hand, could see why a person would want to play a guitar just for fun. Even so, so didn't hang out with them outside of lessons.

Why Tina? Then she remembered. You can cry around Tina and she understood. Maybe not why you were crying but why a person needed to cry sometimes. Or if she didn't understand she didn't pry, she just lets you cry.

* * *

><p><em>Mercedes was standing at her locker when she heard Sam's voice. She turned and saw exactly what she'd been expecting to see for weeks, Sam Evans hand in hand with a skinny blonde cheerleader. Not Quinn, that was the surprising part, but the rest was as predictable as sunrise. When she told him she was tired of being his dirty little secret she also told him to get on with his life. Looks like he listened. No point in staring at something you knew was going to happen so she turned back to her locker.<em>

_The new girl was sitting in the first row during practice that afternoon. Mercedes grabbed a seat in the back row. "Broadway Pot Luck" was written on the blackboard._

_"Mercedes." Mr. Schuester called out._

_She walked slowly to the front of the room. She hated this kind of stuff, hated it with a passion. She didn't need to practice something a hundred times but she liked to know what she was singing beforehand. And the song in her hand was the worst song possible. Just shoot me now, she thought._

_"Ready?" he asked._

_"Right now?"_

_"Yes, that's the point."_

_"This song is perfect for Rachel." She smiled at Rachel, hoping she'd jump up and grab the paper from her hand. Rachel looked like she wanted to._

_"That's not how pot luck works."_

_If they ever performed this Rachel would be the one singing. They both knew that. Hell, everybody in the room knew that. What does Mr. Schuester get out of playing these games she wondered._

_"Fine!" she snapped._

_When you're singing in the practice room, the band is standing behind you. You're facing seats arranged in three rows, on bleachers. Behind the last row are windows looking out on the courtyard. There's a tree there, a maple tree that's gone from green to yellow to red to brown before going bare. She focused on the leaves left on the tree, thought about the image of Kurt walking back into the prom, and started singing._

_Blithe smile, lithe limb_  
><em>She who's winsome, she wins him<em>  
><em>Gold hair with a gentle curl<em>  
><em>That's the girl he chose<em>  
><em>And Heaven knows<em>  
><em>I'm not that girl<em>

_Don't wish, don't start_  
><em>Wishing only wounds the heart<em>  
><em>I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl<em>  
><em>There's a girl I know<em>  
><em>He loves her so<em>  
><em>I'm not that girl<em>

_She stayed focused on the tree all the way back to her seat._

_Later, after everyone had left, she went back to the choir room. It's private there, one of her favorite places in the school. Mercedes was sitting there, thinking and crying, when she heard someone at the door. She slipped behind the bleachers, not interested in talking to anybody right now. She saw boots walking across the room._

_"There you are!" she heard Tina's voice. She walked almost to where Mercedes was and stopped to pick up a book she'd left behind. As she turned to leave the room Mercedes exhaled. "Is somebody here?" Tina asked, stopping in her tracks. "Cause my big strong boyfriend is on the other side of that door! With an ax!" She peeked around the bleachers._

_Mercedes was sitting on the floor, crying, in a dark classroom and Tina acted like it was a perfectly normal thing to be doing. She sat down on the floor, put her arm around Mercedes and waited. Tina didn't ask why, she didn't try to solve the problem, she just waited._

_"Do you need a ride home?" she asked when Mercedes was done._

_"Um, no thanks. I can walk." she wiped her eyes and took a few deep breaths to compose herself._

_"It's raining, you know. You'll get soaked." Tina stood up offered her a hand._

_"Oh. Then I guess I do need a ride. Thank you."_

_Tina drove to Mercedes' house without asking a single question. She played music Mercedes had never heard before and hummed along. "You know" she said as she pulled up in front of Mercedes' house "I'm up pretty late at night. If you want to talk, just call me. Don't worry about the time." she smiled. "I really mean it, any time."_

* * *

><p>Now Tina was sitting on the edge of her bed, handing her the cup of tea Kurt left behind.<p>

"I can't hide up here all day." Mercedes said.

"You're not hiding. And if you need to spend some time up here that's okay."

"There's a house full of people. They'll need food."

"Somebody's taking care of it." Tina opened the photo album at random. "What's this?"

"Marcus and Devi getting married. They got married twice, once here and once in India." she flipped back one page and pointed to a picture of an older woman in a wheelchair, he mother and a surprising thin Mercedes. "That's my grandma. She died right after the American wedding. That's why they did it that way, they knew she couldn't go to India." she touched her grandmother's and mother's faces. "Margarete was my grandmother's name. My mom's name is Rita."

"How long ago was that?"

"Five years ago. I was skinny then, wasn't I? My grandma really loved Devi. Curry. My grandma was from Trinidad and they eat Indian food there. Curry, roti, all that kind of stuff that Devi cooks. My mom, she couldn't cook. My grandma said mom was the perfect daughter except we'd all starve if the can opener broke." she smiled. "Probably true cause our eating habits really changed after she died. That's the good thing about Blaine being here. He's a vegetarian but he couldn't cook, I guess they had a cafeteria down there at Dalton. His mom came down and taught him how to cook. My grandma would like her too, Blaine's mom makes this kind of turnover thing, that grandma used to make with beef. He makes his with vegetables but it's the same thing she used to make. My grandma said I had the makings of a good cook, that the cooking gene must have skipped a generation."

She flipped back a few pages. "This is Kurt's mom right before she died. Her hair was brown, not blonde like here, but she said she always wanted to be blonde. My mom and I went with her to buy that wig. I remember because it was girls only, Kurt couldn't go and he got mad. It was their anniversary and she wanted to surprise Burt. My grandmother, Kurt and I made dinner." She flipped back more. "That's before she got sick. My mom said it's when I met Kurt." The two women were patting their expectant bellies. Rita was holding the hand of a small boy who must be Marcus. "My mom used to sing, did you know that? No, how could you know that?" There was a photo of her mom performing at what looked like a nightclub. "That's where I get it, singing. And she taught me to play the piano." A picture of Mercedes at a recital.

"You play?"

"Not so much anymore. Sometimes at church if the regular pianist isn't there. Right here I was playing jazz. My mom and dad like jazz." She opened the book to another random page. "This kid, Tony, was a friend of Marcus. He lived here off and on for years. For the longest time I thought he was a relative. That's how I knew they wouldn't have a problem with Quinn living here."

"See, here's what a mission looks like. This one was in Kentucky" It was a picture of her mom and dad smiling in front of a clinic. "My dad is a dentist. My mom is a social worker in real life but she helped him at the clinic. That's where they were coming from, a mission trip. Only in South America, not Appalachia. They made it all the way there and all the way back. Only 30 miles from here..." she closed the book. "Drunk driver. The police called Marcus. Marcus and Devi drove up here." She closed her eyes and leaned back on her pillows. "What do your parents do?"

"My parents?"

"Yes, you're a good listener. I wondered if they were social workers or therapists or something."

"No, nothing like that." Tina decided to go with the easiest answer. "My mom's a teacher, my dad's a lawyer. Nice, solid respectable people."

"Which is Cohen and which is Chang?"

"My dad is Cohen, my mom is Chang. I'm the oldest and there's two others, younger brothers seven and ten."

"Do you think your folks would mind if you spent the night? If you wanted to that is."

"I can stay as long as you need me to."

"Thanks. I really appreciate this. I guess I better go down now."

"You sure?"

"I can try." She sat up, tipping over the cup of tea sitting on the bed. "Damn it!"

"It's okay." Tina said grabbing the cup.

"It's not okay! It's never going to be okay again." Finally the tears came.

And Tina put her arm around Mercedes and waited.

* * *

><p>I'm Not That Girl – Wicked Soundtrack<p>

FF_2947886_ - Page 7 of 7 - Word Count: 2010


	6. Rhythm of Love

"You ever think about how stupid people are?" Mercedes asked over breakfast.

"Anybody in particular or just people in general?" Blaine replied, sipping his coffee.

"Take Sam's scrawny blonde girlfriend, for instance. She probably focused on the 'blue eyes deep as the sea' part and totally ignored the 'after I'm gone I'll only remember the sex' part of the song. Stupid."

"I suppose so."

"I know so. Like the song list for this wedding Saturday. "Every Breath You Take" - I'll be watching you- creepy stalker song. "Reasons" - spend the night and in the morning realize all our reasons are a lie. "If Only For One Night." - right there in the title what the guy is interested in. People should read the lyrics before they pick a song."

"I suppose so."

"Stop humoring me." she grinned at him. "By the way, I'm staying in Columbus Saturday night. I think that's why those band kids invited me, none of the girls can sing and they don't have a place to spend the night. They know Marcus will let us crash in his living room. Mercedes Jones – two birds with one stone. Anyway, if you wanted company, as in spend the night company, I don't care."

He looked at her, Kurt sleeping over had never been discussed before. Of course he couldn't sleep over before here parents died in a car crash last month, and Blaine wasn't sure if the rules had changed now that Mercedes owned this house. She never had overnight company, not counting Tina every now and then, but nothing romantic, as far as he knew.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure. I guess we could work out some code, in case I can manage to trick some guy into coming over. Not much chance of that I guess. Anyway, I'll call you before I come home."

* * *

><p>"Do you ever think about dying?" Blaine asked. Kurt and Blaine were at the park, sitting on a bench watching the sunset. It was cold so the park was quiet. Kurt liked being out in the cold for that very reason. Most people were focused on where they were going, ignoring people who were not relevant to their mission. Blaine just liked being with Kurt, and he appreciated how Kurt picked the park as an inexpensive date without making a big deal of it. That was thoughtful. Blaine cooked dinner, sunset at the park, coffee to warm up, then Kurt was spending the night.<p>

"No. I've seen too much of it. Why?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking about Mercedes' parents and my dad. He was in a hospice, dying, at the same time her parents died in that accident. About how when your mother was dying Burt wanted her to die at home, and for you to be there and say goodbye and you both held her hand while she died. How Mercedes' grandmother died at home and she was there. How, even though it was an accident her parents died together."

"That was beautiful, her standing there in church, singing Amazing Grace while her heart was breaking. She had the chance to say goodbye to them in a way that was perfect for her. They were so proud when she started singing in public, she used to be so shy. You never got the chance to say a decent goodbye."

"No. I just went to the cemetery, stared at the marker, and wondered why. How he could choose her over me." Her was his stepmother. "I talked to her, after. She pretty much blamed the whole thing on me. Said I stressed him out so much and that caused his stroke."

Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's. "You can't trust anything she says. The one time I met your father he was pretty heavy. Both you and your mom are normal weight. Maybe her bad cooking is to blame."

"Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have you."

"Hardly. If it weren't for me you'd still be Blaine Anderson, King of the Warblers."

"Well, now I'm Blaine A, mechanic, with the world's best boyfriend. Thanks for helping me find a job."

"You know cars, dad needs extra help on Saturdays. You're done by 4pm. Win, win, win."

"Let's go get coffee. Your hands are freezing." Blaine said, standing up.

* * *

><p>Mercedes looked over at the band kids. Cara and Danny were snuggled up in the corner, her long blonde hair draped over his dark brown arm. Ali and Tim were both sleeping in the middle of the room, laying close to each other but not touching. Mercedes had been sleeping on the other side of the room. She actually had a room here, her brother's house, but she was sleeping down here to be polite. 7am. Mercedes is not a late sleeper so she got up and went to the kitchen. She was making coffee when Tim walked in.<p>

"Hey."

"Hey. Want coffee?"

"Thanks, my head is killing me."

"You guys always drink like that?"

"Usually." He smiled. "So in addition to a girl who can sing we have a designated driver?"

"Hanging around with binge drinkers. Oh joy!"

"Well..." he started.

"Well, it's not like I have anything else to do? Is that what you're thinking?"

"No. Well..."

"You're right, it's true."

"Okay, Why don't you have anything else to do on a Saturday night?"

"Hell if I know. Curvy black girls aren't in demand at McKinley. Maybe I'll meet somebody at a party or maybe it will be in college. Marcus met Devi at college. Hanging out with you booze hounds is still better than sitting around the house all night. What do you normally do on a Saturday, when you're not working?"

"Practice."

"So not much different than studying. So how late do you guys normally sleep? We'll have to pick up breakfast on the way up."

Tim suddenly reached up and touched her cheek. He tilted her head gently to one side.

"Sorry if I startled you but I just noticed how pretty you look in this light. Can I sketch you?"

"What?"

"Sketch. That's the other way I fill my time. That's what I'm studying next year, art, and I've never seen you in early morning light. Nice."

"Sure" she said moving his hand. Sometimes she wondered if Tim was bisexual, not gay. Last night someone had requested "Let's Get it On", another widely inappropriate wedding song, and when she finished singing Tim put his arm around her and whispered "If only I were straight." Of course he'd been drunk, really drunk, at the time. But still, she couldn't imagine Kurt doing something like that. Blaine had kissed Rachel that one time but he was also drunk at the time. And Tim hadn't tried to kiss her, just that vaguely inappropriate compliment. She'd have to work that question into her next conversation with Ali.

* * *

><p>Rhythm of Love – Plain White Ts<p>

Every Breath You Take – Police

Reasons – Earth Wind and Fire

If Only For One Night – Luther Vandross

Let's Get It On – Marvin Gaye

FF_2947886_ - Page 5 of 5 - Word Count: 1179


	7. Hey Julia

"Blaine's going to kill you if he finds out you looked at his journal." Mercedes said. Blaine guarded that journal like it was the Holy Grail.

"Blaine asked me to read it." Kurt replied smugly, closing the journal the same way Blaine does when someone walks into the room. "He said he writes better than he talks."

Good, that smirk made it easier for her to nurse her grievance against him, now that he was happy again.

"Robert Mapplethorpe or Dorothea Lange?" she asked, turning to look at Tina.

"Who's is the one with the naked men?"

"Mapplethorpe. Lange is the dust bowl."

"Naked men or dust bowl. There's a dilemma. Where are you applying?"

"Ohio State and a bunch of East Coast art schools. Art school is more expensive than I thought."

"Yeah, that's why I'm staying local. Definitely Ohio state for me." she looked at Mike, who was waving around an early admission from Stanford. As far away from her as his mother could arrange.

Tina pulled out her sketchbook and started drawing her wedding dress. She was going to be a fairy tale princess and Mike would be sorry he picked Stanford over her. A train so long it had to be carried by 10 people. No, that's ridiculous. And she didn't like the mermaid look. She erased the bottom half. A ball gown for a princess. Did she even need a train, or a dress that dragged on the floor like that? She shortened the dress a little, tea length it to show off the super cute shoes she'd be wearing.

"Isn't that kinda short?" Mercedes asked, looking at the sketch.

"I has to be short, so it won't get tangled in the wheels."

"Wheels?" Mercedes asked with a snicker. "Why are you worried about wheels?"

Yes, why did she say 'wheels'?

Maybe it was because Artie was at this very moment singing "Hey Julia" and Julia was her middle name? Coincidence. She made the dress floor length.

Hey, hey Julia you're acting so peculiar  
>I know I'd never fool you in a million years<br>You're a strain on my eyeses and you're full of surprises  
>Love materializes soon as you come near.<br>There's a sensation you create,  
>Robs me of my sleep and I've forgotten the date<br>My head started spinning soon as you started singing  
>And like a fish I just rose to the bait.<p>

Coincidence.

Mercedes was looking at Tim and thinking about Robert Mapplethorpe. "I have to reschedule tonight." she said after rehearsal was over.

"Fine. I can't make it so you'd be stuck with Alice anyway. Going somewhere fun?"

"Going to look at naked men. It's smut in a magazine, art if it's hanging on the wall. Go figure."

"You like Mapplethorpe? I'm going, not specifically to see that but still, want to go together?"

"Okay. Does Ali want to go?"

"No, not her thing. Photographs of guitars and she'd be all over it."

* * *

><p>"How was your date?" Blaine asked the next morning at breakfast.<p>

"It wasn't a date. I went with a gay guy to look at pictures of naked gay guys."

"Fine. How was that?"

"You've seen a naked gay guy before." that made Blaine blush. "But I have to say it's not true, seen one seen 'em all. Once you get over the titillation factor and concentrate on the lighting and composition you can see why Mapplethorpe was a big deal."

"So did that help you make up your mind, seeing the exhibition?" he said, trying to get off the topic of male nudes.

"Pretty much. It's not like I have access to celebrities and guys willing to pose nude. Weddings, families, that's where I think I'll end up. Photojournalism might be a stretch but it's doable."

"Why not performing? You're good enough."

"You're not going into performing. It's writing, right? Well, I'd rather be behind a camera than in front of one. Rachel was right when she said I don't have the drive. I'll probably just sing on the weekends or something."

* * *

><p>Blaine was holding a copy of the school literary magazine, hot off the presses. He glanced at the cover, a time-laspe photo of the front of McKinley. The exposure was so long that the students coming in and out were faded, like ghosts haunting the building. "Becoming" was emblazoned on the front of the magazine. Mercedes waved her copy. "Nice poem."<p>

"Thanks. Nice cover."

"Thank you. You like it, not too pretentious?"

"No. It's perfect. Hey, Kurt." Blaine called to his boyfriend who was walking down the hallway. "Got something to show you."

"**Falling**"

I was looking at the ocean for the first time  
>The water was warm and the waves were crashing, crashing, crashing<br>I stood there and let them wash over me  
>You warned me to be careful<br>When I tripped the water caught me and told me it loved me  
>And I was going home<br>The people on the beach screamed  
>(or so you told me later)<br>And the lifeguard made me come back

I was at summer camp for the last time  
>The water was cold and I was drifting, drifting, drifting<br>Thinking about things  
>You told me I'd be better off not thinking about<br>When the raft was tipped over  
>The water caught me and told me it missed me<br>It still loved me and I was going home  
>It was just a stupid joke<br>(or so you told me later)  
>And the counselor made me come back<p>

I was sitting in the kitchen like I always am now  
>You were talking, talking, talking<br>You wanted to know when I was going to get over this  
>I said I was getting over it right now<br>You warned me about my attitude and told me to stop mumbling  
>Then you asked if I was okay<br>Only this time you waited for an answer for a change  
>And you threw water in my face<br>Only it was the wrong kind, it doesn't love me  
>Lemon-aide<br>(will you say later?)  
>You tried to make me come back<p>

The medicine cabinet loves me and this time I'm going home.

"Well?" He searched Kurt's face for clues. They were sitting in the mostly deserted courtyard.

"This was right before you went to Dalton?"

"This is why I went to Dalton. This is why my parents got divorced."

"Remember when your mom came to town, that weekend after Mercedes' parents were buried? You two made tamales and you had to go out a buy something?"

"Yes, I remember."

"We had a nice long chat, your mom and I. I asked her why she didn't like me."

"You did?"

* * *

><p><em>Kurt nervously watched Blaine walk out the door to get whatever it was they needed to finish those tamales. That left him alone with Blaine's mother. <em> <em>He'd met Mrs. Anderson a couple of times before, knew she didn't like him and had a good guess why.<br>_Rachel had once described Blaine as 'vaguely Eurasian' but his looks weren't from Asia, or maybe Asia by way of the Bering Sea_. Actually, she seemed a lot more relaxed than the last time he'd seen her. "My grandmother was from Lima, Peru. Now Blaine lives in LIma, Ohio, strange isn't is?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Have you always lived here?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Do you like it, living in such a small town?"_

_"Yes."  
><em>

_"You know, Blaine says you're quite the talker but I'm not seeing it."_

_"Can I ask why don't you like me?"  
><em>

_"It's not that I dislike you as a person." Carmen Anderson said wiping her hands on her apron. "I don't really know you. The problem was, when you have a baby, a son, you naturally think about weddings and grandchildren. And a wife, I've always visualized Blaine with a wife. He's never acted gay, as if there's such a thing as 'acting gay'. I've learned that however he acts is 'acting gay', but at the time I thought gay people were easy to spot. Like you, you're what I imagined gay men are like. I really thought it was a phase he was going through. We both did, his father and I. Until that dance. He was so stubborn about going and we figured he would get it out of his system once and for all. Then we get a phone call from the hospital. He was hurt so badly, physically and mentally. S we settled on Dalton. No girlfriend yet but a mother hopes, you know? I mean, there was a whole school full of girls right next door. And then you, you were undeniable proof. And he is willing to give up everything for you, so what can I say? He's happier than I've seen him in years."_

_"He thinks he was the reason you got divorced."_

_"I keep telling him that's not true. After he left, we realized the only thing we ever talked about was "What to do about Blaine." So actually, the divorce would have happened earlier. Unfortunately his new stepmother doesn't like competing with Blaine, but I think that would have been a problem regardless. The cost of Dalton was never an issue until after they got married. When his stepbrothers were born it was all his father wanted to talk about, how expensive everything was. I think they used you as an excuse to stop paying tuition. Unfortunately I can't afford Dalton on my own."_

_"Blaine understands about that."_

_"I need to learn to trust Blaine's judgment." She smiled. "I just want to apologize for how hostile I've been in the past. You didn't deserve to be treated like that." She held her arms open for a hug. "Can you forgive me?"  
><em>

_"Yes, Mrs. Anderson."_

_"You can call me Carmen." she said hugging him.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Hey Julia - Robert Palmer<p>

FF_2947886_ - Page 5 of 5 - Word Count: 1018


	8. Close To My Fire

Gave you all I had  
>And you tossed it in the trash<br>You tossed it in the trash, yes you did  
>To give me all your love<br>Is all I ever asked  
>Cause what you don't understand<br>Is I'd catch a grenade for ya  
>Throw my hand on the blade for ya<br>I'd jump in front of a train for ya  
>You know I'd do anything for ya<br>But you'd never, ever, ever do the same

That was quick, Mercedes thought as she listened to Sam sing. It didn't take long for the skinny blonde to trade up to Puck. Mercedes didn't know whether to feel bad for Sam or to gloat.

"What do you think?" Blaine asked. Normally Blaine sat in the front row with Kurt and Rachel but today Kurt and Rachel were with the AV kids, recording an audition tape. Blaine wasn't applying for performing arts so he needed writing, not singing samples, so today he was sitting in the back row with Mercedes.

"What do I think about what?"

"About what Sam just sang."

"Technically, he did a good job. He has rotten luck with women. I mean, the whole glee club walked in on his new girlfriend making out with Puck. I kinda feel bad for him. Kinda. On the other hand, he never offered to catch a grenade for me so maybe I don't give a shit. He never even offered to cross the street for me so I'm filing it under don't give a shit."

_It had taken a while for the full meaning of "I don't have any money" to dawn on Samantha Peters. Sam Evans was sooo cute, and it was sooo cute the way people called them "the Sams" and his brother and sister were sooo cute. To a point. They were always around, always. He couldn't go anywhere without them. And he literally had no money. Most people mean "I only have 10-20 dollars" when they say they have no money. Not Sam, and that got old quick. A girl can only be expected to watch so many sunsets. Puck, on the other hand, could always get his hands on money. Not a hard decision, really. Sam would understand. As she heard it, this had happened before, he was used to it. She intended to talk to him first but, well, she'd gotten carried away that day in the choir room. Oh well, there was nothing left to say he'd get over it. Now that she thought about it, there's no reason to hang around here in Glee club. Puck would come to her._

"Is this how you guys normally pick songs for performances?" Blaine asked.

"This is bullshit. Rachel's going to be singing lead. You have a shot at a duet with Rachel, but everybody else in this room-"

"Mercedes!" Mr. Schuester was talking now.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have something you want to share with the group?"

"No, sir."

"Well, then can you please pay attention?"

"Yes, sir." she said, seething.

"Actually, Mr. Schuester, I asked her a question." Blaine said innocently.

"You're new here. Mercedes should know better."

Mercedes vowed to sit closer to the door from now on, the better to make dramatic, door-slamming exits in cases like this. The effect would be lost if she had to climb over 10 people on her way out. Tim winked at her. Mercedes gave him her best 'what the hell are you looking at' look before she remembered it was Thursday, and she was having people over for dinner. She laughed, louder than she intended to.

"Something funny?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"No, sir." she paused. "Well, actually I was just thinking. Aren't we going to end up with Rachel singing lead? Rachel and Finn, or possibly Rachel and Blaine." Finn turned around and looked at her like she was crazy. Mercedes smiled sweetly at him. "That being the case, why don't we just concentrate on prepping whatever the rest of us are singing while we're standing behind Rachel?" Tina snickered and Artie had a coughing fit.

"Thank you for your input, Mercedes."

"You're welcome, Mr. Schuester."

Mr. Schuester wondered if this was grief over the recent loss of her parents or something else. This borderline insubordination has been going on since last spring actually. He made a mental note to ask Emma to talk to her.

* * *

><p>Sam sat on the park bench, watching his younger brother and sister Stevie and Stacey run around the playground. They were too young to know what was going on, this was a vacation as far as they knew. At least they were still happy.<p>

Sam was contemplating giving up on dating entirely, at least until after high school. His three girlfriends at McKinley had all been failures. Quinn, Santana, Samantha, all humiliating failures. Why hadn't he included Mercedes in that list? Because she hadn't actually been his girlfriend, had she? Well obviously she thought she was.

The whole 'secret girlfriend' thing was her idea originally. She didn't want people 'minding her business' as she put it but she'd quickly changed her mind about that. Maybe she was so proud and happy that she wanted the whole world to know. She'd never had a boyfriend before, Sam found that hard to believe but evidently that was the case. That's when the trouble started. He'd never asked her to do any of that stuff, but he didn't say stop either. Dirty little secret. Is that how she'd felt? He hadn't really thought about it at the time. She went away to camp and Sam started seeing Quinn again.

She was thinner and better dressed when she came back, but she still wasn't what he wanted, what he was supposed to want. Skinny cheerleader, preferably blonde. She had said that to him once. A lot of good that's been. He'd been thinking about her, off and on, ever since she sang _"I'm Not That Girl"_ last month. He hadn't thought much about what happened before that. It's not that she didn't deserve to be happy, he was just not the guy for her. It was obvious that they didn't belong together, anybody could see that.

He wondered if she was happy, she seemed happy enough, which was surprising considering her parents died recently. He wondered how she was coping. That had bugged her, that Kurt never asked her how she was getting along without him. Maybe he should ask her.

"Damn it, Stacey!" she was a mess, filthy from head to toe. "What the hell were you guys doing, playing in a dumpster?" Stacey's bottom lip quivered and her eyes watered. Stevie was frightened and grabbed her hand. "Stop it!" Sam yelled. "Just stop it!" That never works in real life. They both started bawling.

Great! Now he had to take them to the laundromat today instead of tomorrow. He hated taking them to the laundromat, they always asked why they couldn't just go to Mercedes' house like they used to. And he was sure they would tell his mom he yelled at them. Something else he'd be in trouble over. He wondered how closely military recruiters checked paperwork, he could probably pass for 18. Strange to think he'd have more privacy living in a barrack. He dragged them back to the motel.

* * *

><p>So come on sugar<br>Don't slow it down  
>I won't stop craving<br>'Til you come around  
>You can't deny it<br>You're right here at home  
>The embers are waitin'<br>You know I want you to

Strike a match and set me on fire  
>Watch it burn and my flames gettin' higher<br>You light me up, sweet 'ole desire  
>So won't you come, close to my fire<br>Yeah yeah - Yeah yeah  
>Yeah yeah - yeah yeah<p>

Santana was smoking hot this afternoon. It was a wonder the smoke detectors hadn't gone off, the way she was moaning her way through that song. The assignment was to choose a song used in a commercial. Sam wondered what product would use this song, Trojans maybe. Everybody in the room, was thinking about sex right now. Most of the straight guys had slept with Santana before. Sam had and he knew Puck and Finn had, and that's just the guys he knew about. He had no idea if she'd slept with other girls besides Britt.

"Thank you, Santana. What was that?" Mr. Schuester asked. He definitely was singing that to Emma tonight.

"_Close to My Fire_." she said, slightly out of breath. She was as excited too. "BMW 6 Series" she ran over to Brittney and whispered something in her ear. "Gotta run." They said, literally running out of the room.

"I think we can end early today." Will said, heading to Emma's – Bruno Mars

Sam decided to spend the extra time at the park, alone. They didn't expect him home for another hour and he was never alone these days. He should be thinking about Santana. She's the sexiest woman he'd ever met, and sex with her was damn fine. Okay, she's gay now but still, he had several steamy memories to rely on. So why was he thinking of Mercedes Jones?

* * *

><p>Grenade – Bruno Mars<p>

Close to My Fire - Slackwax

FF_2947886_ - Page 6 of 6 - Word Count: 1570


	9. Gone At Last

Artie Abrams stared at Mercedes' front steps. There were only four of them but still, that's a problem. Steps. His mother was parking the car, dropping him off but how was he going to get into the house? This wasn't going to work.

"Hello Mrs. Abrams." Mercedes called out while coming from the backyard. "Can I help you with that?" She lifted his wheelchair from the trunk like it was something she did every day. "Hey, Artie." She put his chair in just the right position and helped him from the car to the chair. She was better at it than Tina, not as good as Brittany. Of course with Brittany there was anticipation of good things to come. Brittany was also surprisingly strong but Mercedes also knew what she was doing. He wondered if she volunteered at a hospital or something.

"Would you like to come in for a drink of something, Mrs. Abrams?" she offered politely. "We'll be going in the back door, if you don't mind. There's a ramp there. My grandmother used to live here."

Artie didn't visit people much, not many homes are handicapped accessible. Tina's house was difficult to get in and out of. Brittany's house was also difficult to manage but he didn't mind her carrying him around. Mercedes had a ramp and, praise the Lord, grab bars in the bathroom. He didn't often see grab bars in his friend's houses. Asking your friends to help you in the bathroom is embarrassing but he could manage this bathroom on his own.

"Your grandmother lived here?" Artie asked after his mother left.

"Yes, my mother's mother. She lived here until she died. Don't worry, it's not haunted or anything. Where my mom is from they do things that way."

"Where's that?"

"Trinidad, an island in the Caribbean. My grandmother was from there." She handed him a glass of iced-tea. "You ever hea_r Gone at Last_? Paul Simon, Phoebe Snow, kinda gospel sounding? We never do gospel. That would be a good idea for our assignment."

"Can I hear it?" he said following her into the family room.

_Once in a while from out of nowhere_  
><em>When you don't expect it, and you're unprepared<em>  
><em>Somebody will come and lift you higher<em>  
><em>And your burdens will be shared<em>  
><em>Yes I do believe, if I hadn't met you<em>  
><em>I might still be sinking fast<em>  
><em>I've had a long streak of bad luck<em>  
><em>But I'm praying it's gone at last<em>

* * *

><p>"Tina's coming over in a few minutes. Can you believe she's never seen Dr. Horrible? Yeah, me neither. Can you stay? I can give you ride home later."<p>

Five minutes into the video Blaine and Kurt walked in. Blaine started humming along with "Laundry Day". "You've never seen this?" he asked Kurt, amazed. "Watch it, you'll love it. Can you start over, it's not very far in." So they started over. Not exactly how she'd planned to watch this with him but close enough.

When the doorbell rang 10 minutes later she opened the door expecting to see Tim. She was shocked to find Sam Evans standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Of course she'd seen him around, she couldn't help but see him during the day and at practice, but she hadn't talked to him in months. After she said it she hoped that didn't come out sounding rude.

"Blaine. Practice." he mumbled.

She didn't exactly invite him in but she didn't slam the door in his face either. She just walked away and sat down next to Tina. "Blaine, Sam's here."

That was a lucky break, Sam thought at the time, getting paired with Blaine for duets. Perfect excuse to go to her house. He hadn't expected to see so many people there, but still she hadn't seemed angry to see him. He cut the practice as short as possible, hoping to get the chance to talk to her. When Sam and Blaine came downstairs the movie was almost over. Tina was sniffling already and they hadn't even reached the really sad part. Blaine sat down next to Kurt and put his arm around him.

"Where's Mercedes? I want to say bye."

"In the kitchen," Kurt offered, moving closer to Blaine.

* * *

><p>Tim had been playing for hours today. While making dinner, Mercedes noticed he kept flexing his right hand and shaking his arm.<p>

"Is your hand okay?" she asked.

"It's fine. Just hurts a little when I play too long."

"Have a seat." she sat down at the kitchen table. Tim sat next to her. "Okay, let's see your hand." She massaged his hand with both of hers. Damn, she had a strong grip. "My grandmother had arthritis, and she liked this." Tim missed a lot of what she was saying, she was babbling. Usually when people are described as babbling it's a bad thing, like when her friend Britt babbles – a constant stream of nonsense. Mercedes' brand of babbling was a river of words where the sound was more important than the content. It kind of reminded him of when his grandmother came to visit, he didn't understand the lullabies she sang but he loved the sound of them. Sitting in the kitchen with Mercedes was like that.

He looked at her. She was looking down, focused on his hand. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a stray strand had come loose. With his free hand he tucked the strand behind her ear, leaving his hand on her cheek a couple of seconds longer than was absolutely necessary. She looked up and smiled at him, a friendly smile that made Tim feel comfortable.

Sometimes girls made him feel awkward. Not girls he knew, strange girls. He was attractive, what people called exotic, he played guitar and sang lead in a rock band. Girls, and some women who looked old enough to know better, liked that in a guy and made sure he knew it. That was the primary reason he didn't like singing. Unfortunately he was the only one in his band with a decent singing voice. He wondered if girls practiced what they hoped was a sexy smile. Of course, Alice had it worse than he did. People treated him like a sex toy but a girl with an electric guitar was treated like a freak of nature. He kept trying to get her to switch to acoustic, people expect to see that, but Alice is stubborn and probably the best guitarist he'd ever heard. Better than her brother, really, but then her brother is what people expect to see holding an electric guitar.

"Hey Tim." the sound of Sam's voice startled Mercedes so much she dropped Tim's hand on the table.

"Ouch."

"Sorry." Mercedes picked up his hand again. "I didn't know you were still here." she said over her shoulder to Sam.

"Just wanted to say goodbye. I know it bothers you when people leave without saying goodbye."

"Bye, Sam. Wait," she stood up, still absentmindedly holding Tim's hand. "You can stay for dinner if you want. There's going to be lots of people. Tina, Artie, Kurt, Blaine, Tim. You're welcome to stay."

"No, but thanks for asking."

* * *

><p>"Tina, I have a handkerchief you can borrow." Artie offered.<p>

"Thanks." Handkerchief, Tina thought. How old-fashioned Artie was. "I feel like such a fool. Crying over a movie. Mercedes said it was sad."

Artie tried to remember why he had broken up with Tina. That's right, Asian Camp. Tina went off to Asian Camp with Mike and came back in love. Not surprising, really. Mike was good looking and a brilliant dancer. He couldn't compete on either count. All he could do was sing to her.

"Why did you pick Hey Julia to sing the other day?" Tina was asking. "Did you know that's my middle name?"

"I like Robert Palmer and it's in the yearbook."

"Oh." Tina wondered how to take that. "You're staying for Family dinner?"

"Yes. Why does she call if Family dinner?"

"It's something she started after her parents died. Every Thursday I have dinner here and Blaine makes sure he's here that day. And Kurt usually comes over, Tim the last couple of weeks. Now you."

"Is she dating Tim?"

"I get the impression she's not but I'm not sure. Some things she talks about, for instance her parents, and some things she doesn't, like dating. They're friends and they play together. Sometimes I think that's better, friends instead of boyfriend/girlfriend. I mean, just somebody to hang out with and not having to worry about love and sex and all that."

"Interesting that you say that. Isn't Mike your boyfriend?"

"Probs not, or not for much longer. He's going off to Stanford. Far, far away from Ms. Tina Cohen-Chang. The faster he breaks off with me the better his mother likes it, and she's funding his education."

"And she doesn't like you why?"

"My mother. Bad karma."

"So why am I invited to family dinner?" he asked, changing the subject. Artie knew the story about Tina's mother's suicide but not many other people did. Most people thought her aunt and uncle are her parents, and Tina preferred to let them think that.

"Why not? You're likable. Isn't he Blaine?"

"Huh?" Blaine and Kurt were whispering and laughing on the other side of the room. At first it had been odd seeing Kurt with someone. Tina didn't know Kurt all that well but he'd saved her from several trips into the dumpster, even though he couldn't save himself. He'd made a fool of himself over Finn Hudson, well he and Rachel fought over who would be the bigger fool for Finn. Blaine had seemed too good to be true, the way Kurt described him. Evidently Kurt's perception was correct, Blaine was good for him. He smoothed Kurt's jagged edges and Kurt used to have a lot of edges.

* * *

><p>That looked awful cozy, Tim and Mercedes holding hands and staring into each other's eyes in the kitchen. Maybe Tim was her new gay best friend, although Sam wasn't sure if Tim was really gay. Mercedes said he was, Sam had seen him all over a guy at the prom last year. Maybe he had a secret boyfriend. Maybe his boyfriend didn't go to McKinley. Maybe Tim was bisexual. All plausible scenarios. And why did Sam care if Mercedes was dating him?<p>

* * *

><p>Gone at Last – Paul Simon and Phoebe Snow<p>

FF_2947886_ - Page 7 of 7 - Word Count: 1748


	10. It Don't Matter to the Sun

Sam was busing tables at Breadstix. At first it had been awkward, cleaning up after this classmates and their parents, but he'd quickly realized there were plenty of kids working here. Of course, most of the McKinley guys working here used their money for gas and girls, not paying the rent, but clearing tables at Breadstix was common enough that nobody wondered why he was doing it. And that's what he was doing now, setting up for dinner service, when he bumped into Mercedes. She was carrying one end of a large box when she literally backed into him.

"Sorry." she turned around. "Hi Sam" she said smiling. "You work here?"

"One of my many jobs. What are you doing?"

"Working. We're playing here tonight. We're setting up early."

"We?"

"Hello." It was her constant companion, or at least it seemed that way to Sam, Tim. "Where can we put this keyboard?"

Sam led them to the area in front of the restaurant the manager had set aside earlier. deCastro Jones the sign said. He didn't know Tim's last name was deCastro. He didn't know they played together. Seems like he didn't know a damn thing.

* * *

><p>The Hudson-Hummels had reservered a table for ten, which was good for tips, friends tend to over-tip. The table was full of Hummels, Hudsons, Andersons and Berrys. At 9 the manager took the stage. "Last month we started having live music once a month. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome deCastro Jones."<p>

It was a busy night, live music seemed to attracted a heavier than average bar crowd. If the bar crowd overflowed into the dining room that also increased tips. Sam was busy, it was going to be a good night, so he only heard bits and pieces of what they played but in his mind they were describing their future life together.

Mercedes was playing the keyboard, playing a I don't wanna fall in love song.

_Oh no not now_  
><em>Please not now<em>  
><em>I just settled into the glass half empty<em>  
><em>Made myself at home<em>  
><em>And so why now<em>  
><em>Please not now<em>  
><em>I just stopped believing in happy endings<em>  
><em>Harbors of my own<br>But you had to come along didn't you_?  
><em>Break down the doors, throw open windows<em>  
><em>Oh if you knew just what a fool you have made me<br>So what do I do with this?_

Then Tim sang a falling in love with my best friend song.

_If we kiss_ _  
>If we touch<em>  
><em>All of this<em>  
><em>Could get rough<em>  
><em>Ain't no thing<em>  
><em>Ain't no strings<em>  
><em>Ain't no "I love you, you love me"<em>  
><em>We won't get caught up in the stuff that brings<em>  
><em>You don't really wanna fall in love <em>  
><em>You don't really wanna mess this up <em>  
><em>You don't really wanna fall in love <em>  
><em>'Cause fallin' in love just breaks your heart <em>  
><em>Fallin' in love just broke my heart<em>

Then he sang an I'm out of here song.

_This youthful heart can love you and give you what you need _  
><em>But I'm too old to go chasing you around <em>  
><em>Wasting my precious energy <em>  
><em>Give me one reason to stay here - and I'll turn right back around <em>  
><em>Because I don't want leave you lonely <em>  
><em>But you got to make me change my mind<em>

And she sang a I can't believe he left song.

_Wonder this time where he's gone, _  
><em>Wonder if he's gone to stay <em>  
><em>Ain't no sunshine when he's gone <em>  
><em>And this house just ain't no home anytime he goes away.<em>

Then a duet on a happy traveling song, probably their honeymoon.

_Wouldn't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express,_  
><em>they're taking me to Marrakesh.<em>  
><em>All aboard the train.<em>  
><em>I've been saving all my money just to take you there. <em>  
><em>I smell the garden in your hair.<em>

"Thank you everybody." Mercedes said. "For this next song we need an assist from the finest guitarist we know. Please welcome Ali McKenna!"

Tim sang a please forgive me baby song.

_Sometimes a man gets carried away,_  
><em>When he feels like he should be having his fun<em>  
><em>Much too blind to see the damage he's done<em>  
><em>Sometimes a man must awake to find that, really, He has no one...<em>  
><em>So I'll wait for you... And I'll burn<em>  
><em>Will I ever see your sweet return?<em>  
><em>Oh, will I ever learn?<em>  
><em>Oh, Lover, you should've come over<em>  
><em>Cause it's not too late.<em>

"Be back in 15 minutes." Tim announced.

Sam was definitely reading too much into this. They probably arranged the songs that way just to keep them organized. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Santana used to say that, usually when he wanted to talk about their relationship. She refused to explain what it meant but he quickly learned to drop the subject if he wanted to have sex. That was the only thing she ever kicked him out of bed about, talking about their "relationship". It always sounded like she was using air quotes when she said the word relationship.

She looked so pretty when she was performing. So happy that she practically glowed. She was never going to sing lead for New Directions, everybody knew that, but it looked like she'd found a way to be happy. Sam should be happy for her, Mercedes was probably the nicest girl he knew. Not saying much, considering. But still, she was a nice person. They used to have actual conversations. She listened to what he said and they both talked about how they felt. He missed that, talking. Quinn only talked about rebuilding her image, Santana talked about sex, Samantha talked about shopping.

Sam was refilling water glasses when they started the second half of their show. Mercedes was singing and playing the guitar. She must be practicing for hours, she was a much better player than she was months ago. She was singing a maybe he's not coming back this time song.

_It ain't gonna stop the world If you walk out that door _  
><em>This old world will just keep on turning 'round <em>  
><em>Like it did the day before <em>  
><em>'Cause see to them it makes no difference <em>  
><em>It just keeps on keepin' time <em>  
><em>'Cause it ain't gonna stop the world <em>  
><em>But it'll be the end of mine <em>  
><em>What can I say <em>  
><em>What can I do <em>  
><em>I'm still in love<em>  
><em>So why aren't you?<em>

Will Schuester looked across the table at his pretty new bride. It had been a risk marrying Emma. What if she couldn't get over her OCD issues, at least the ones relating to sex? How her first husband lived with a woman as sexy as Emma without having sex with her was incomprehensible to him. However, that was all behind them now, which was why they were eating dinner at 9:30 and sitting in the back of the crowded restaurant. Once they got home it was hard to get out the door again.

"Doesn't Mercedes sound good?" Emma said.

"This isn't Mercedes." Will said chuckling. "She sings R&B."

"It's Mercedes all right. I recognize her voice. Singing Garth Brooks."

"Garth Brooks, as if." he laughed.

"What are you going to do for me if I'm right?" she smiled wickedly.

This was the kind of bet Will liked, win-win.

"Whatever you want!"

"Sam?" she address the blonde boy filling water glasses at the adjacent table. "Who's singing right now?"

"Mercedes, Ms. Pillsbury, I mean Mrs. Schuester. And Tim, he plays the guitar for us when we practice and he also sings."

"Thank you Sam. " she said sweetly.

"Garth Brooks - In The Life Of Chris Gaines, 1999. You owe me, Will."

"My pleasure."

Tim was singing a why do we keep doing this song.

_Just once I want to understand_  
><em>why it always comes back to goodbye<em>  
><em>Why can't we give ourselves a hand?<em>  
><em>And admit to one another<em>  
><em>We're no good without the other<em>  
><em>Take the best and make it better<em>  
><em>Find a way to stay together<em>

Mercedes was singing a we've worked it out song.

_you make me feel so young the way we laugh and play_  
><em>like a child in the sun<em>  
><em>you know I wanna stay<em>  
><em>in love this way<em>  
><em>how do i feel when i feel like praying, feel like saying<em>  
><em>it feels so good so right to be with you tonight<em>

Another in love with my best friend song. Lucky. He sang that with Quinn once.

_I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend _  
><em>Lucky to have been where I have been <em>  
><em>Lucky to be coming home again <em>  
><em>Lucky we're in love every way <em>  
><em>Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed <em>  
><em>Lucky to be coming home someday<em>

"Thank you everybody." Tim said. "Last song. Awwwww, I know, and you guys have been great. So we have a special treat for you. Kurt?"

Kurt walked up to the sage "Ladies and gentlemen, Kurt Hummel!" Mercedes announced. It was something from the Beatles.

_But of all these friends and lovers _  
><em>There is no one compares with you <em>  
><em>And these memories lose their meaning <em>  
><em>When I think of love as something new <em>  
><em>Though I know I'll never lose affection <em>  
><em>For people and things that went before <em>  
><em>I know I'll often stop and think about them <em>  
><em>In my life I love you more<em>

Mercedes pointed at him "Tim deCastro."

He held up her hand, "Mercedes Jones."

"Thank you." They said together, holding hands and bowing to applause.

Sam felt ill. His stomach hurt and he was having trouble breathing. He needed air, desperately and now. He asked one of the other busboys to cover for him and went outside. He was standing beside the dumpster, trying to catch his breath, when suddenly he started crying. That's the life he wanted, and the girl he wanted it with. How stupid would a guy have to be not to have not seen that? Was it too late now?

Someone was touching his arm. "Are you okay?" Mercedes asked.

* * *

><p>Stray Italian Greyhound – Vienna Teng<p>

Falling In Love - Matt White

Give Me One Reason - Tracy Chapman

Ain't No Sunshine – Bill Withers

Marrakesh Express - Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Lover, You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley

It Don't Matter to the Sun – Garth Brooks (also Rosie Thomas)

Just Once – James Ingram

So Good, So Right – Brenda Russell

Lucky – Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat

In My Life - Beatles


	11. Danny's Song

_Samantha looked at disgust with her presumed date, Noah. They had just spent the last half hour negotiating the terms of tonight's sleeping arrangements. They'd be spending the night together, that was pretty certain. It was just a matter of who'd do what for whom, and in what order. God this was tedious. Noah was generous, in a financial sense, and Samantha liked that in a guy. It's just everything he did he expected to get paid for, or she should say laid for. He could at least act like it was an unexpected treat._

_She looked at Sam Evans, he was walking around, cleaning tables, filling water glasses. Now Sam, on the other hand, she never had to negotiate with Sam. He did things in bed for her, things she didn't even know she wanted done, and he always appreciated whatever she did for him. Noah, she had to ask. Oh, he'd do what she wanted but always wanted to know "and what are you going to do for me?" Too bad Sam was poor, that was pretty foolish of him._

_"He's a fool and don't I know it, but a fool can have his charms." Where did she hear that? Oh yeah, those gay guys sang it in glee club. That was another shame, those gay guys. Not the tall skinny one, not her type. But Blaine, Blaine with the smoldering eyes and the curly black hair, was exactly her type. She looked over at Kurt and Blaine, they were eating desert from the same plate, like lovers do. Like Finn and what's-her-name were doing. Like she and Noah weren't doing._

_When Sam wasn't clearing tables he was looking at the musicians playing in the front of the room. She recognized them from school. The girl, the other cheerleaders called her 'the fat black girl'. She was black, no denying that, but she wasn't fat. Maybe compared to the cheerleaders she was but coach Sylvester liked her squad much thinner than average. Weight-wise Samantha was middle-of-the pack at her old school and her off-season weight is about what this girl weighs. The cheerleaders keep calling her Porsche but Samantha was pretty sure that's not her name. Now the boy, Samantha could go for his type. He was some kind of Asian, not Chinese, darker than that. India, Thailand, Vietnam – something like that. His hair was long, like Sam, but in an "I had it cut that way", not in an "I can't afford a haircut way." He had a way of tossing his head back to clear the hair from his eyes. That was cute. She wondered if he was gay, Porsche (damn, that's not her name) had a reputation of hanging out with gay guys but he didn't seem particularly gay. But then, neither did Blaine._

_The audience was demanding an encore and they were laughing at each other. The Asian guy whispered something in her ear and she laughed again. They started playing, it must be something old because the audience applauded. Nobody, except Samantha because she was looking at him, noticed Sam dropping the glass he was holding. He started to pick up the shards as Samantha recognized the song. "Even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey." Sam used to sing that to her, he must be overcome with emotion thinking about her._

* * *

><p>Mercedes couldn't believe her eyes. When she used to hang out with Sam she'd seen him upset, irritated and stressed but she'd never seen him cry. And there he was, standing by a dumpster in a dark alley bawling like a baby. The possible causes raced through her mind. Sam's family was in precarious financial condition, maybe they can't afford that motel room anymore. It would be awkward but she had plenty of room at her house, if they're living in a shelter or something she'd get used to having him around. She couldn't let Stevie and Stacey live at a homeless shelter when she had a 5 bedroom house with two people living in it. Maybe somebody got sick. She'd seen families pushed to the edge of disaster by an emergency room visit. Her mom was a social worker and helped people all the time, Mercedes could call one of her mom's friends to get help for them.<p>

"Sam, are you okay?" she handed the guitar she was carrying to Tim. "Can you give me a few minutes?"

"Yeah. Yell if you need help." he looked at Sam as if he might become violent at any time.

"Can I help?" she asked. Sam suddenly turned and hugged her, holding on like a drowning man.

"I missed you so much."

"What?"

"I missed you. So much. I just realized it tonight."

"You missed me?" she laughed. "Is that all?" She immediately regretted it. She could feel his body stiffen. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just thought it was something serious."

He took a step back. "I gotta get back to work."

"I'm sorry!"

"Okay, you're sorry. I gotta go." he said walking away.

"What was that about?" Tim asked, carrying the keyboard.

"Not sure." She grabbed the other side of the keyboard.

"There!" he said putting the keyboard in the back of his car. "Do you need a ride home? Or do you want to go hang out with Alice? That's where I'm ending up."

"No, I'm riding with Blaine. Thanks anyway."

When Mercedes get back into the restaurant she was surprised to find no Hummels, Hudsons, Andersons or Berrys. The table they had been sitting at was empty. She sat down and sent Blaine a text.

Sam came to the table, carrying a plastic bin, and started to pick up plates and glasses.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, rudely it sounded to her.

"Blaine. He's a smart enough guy but he goes fucking brain-dead when Kurt's in the room. No wonder he forgot." She picked up an empty glass and handed it to him.

"You didn't use to swear so much, before."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. None of my business, really. Is he coming back for you?"

"I don't know. He's not answering."

"Well, if you're still here in half an hour my dad can give you a ride home. You've given me plenty of rides."

"Thank you."

"It's nothing." He picked up the bin and walked toward the kitchen.

He came back in a few minutes with an empty bin and started working on a different table. She walked over started to help him clear the table. "I don't need any help." he said.

"Sorry. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings earlier. I was just surprised when you said that, I thought something was seriously wrong."

"Yeah, that's what you keep saying."

"Fine!" she sat down in the lobby and started playing her guitar.

Sam finished cleaning up and sat down on the opposite side of the lobby. "What's that? What you're playing?"

"I don't remember what it's called. It's a Filipino lullaby Tim taught me." She noticed he flinched at the mention of Tim's name. "His grandmother used to sing it."

"So what's the deal with you and Tim?"

"He taught me to play the guitar."

"Is that all he's teaching you?"

"Why the hell, heck, no hell! Why the hell do you care? Did I ask what Quinn and Samantha taught you?" she stood up. "Thanks for the offer of a ride. I'll take a cab."

"You don't have to take a cab. I'm sorry I said that."

She sat down and started playing again.

"You must be practicing a lot. You're a lot better then when I last heard you play."

"Thank you."

"You know," he said "this kind of reminds me of the prom last year. Being stranded with you."

"The prom was nice."

"And Nationals in New York, that was fun."

"Yes, that was nice." She stopped playing and carefully put the guitar back in its case. She sat back and looked at Sam. Why the fuck was he crying over her, six months after the fact? Would he answer that question if she asked? She couldn't ask him now, there were too many people around.

"You looked happy, when you were performing. Were you?"

"Yes, I like performing. This was Tim's job, really. He asked me to help with vocals, and keyboards. Cara and Ali don't sing. Isn't Ali the best guitarist you ever heard? Better than Tim, really."

"Yes, she's good."

"Do you still live," she paused "where you used to live?"

"No." he sounded surprised that she asked that question. "You mom helped us find an apartment. Well, she had it mostly set up right before the accident. It's a lot better at the apartment. Your folks were really nice. I don't know how I'd survive, if my parents died like that."

"You'd survive. What other choice would you have? Plus you'd have your brother and sister to take care of." she stared out the window for a few minutes.

"You know something, Sam?" she said, walking over and sitting next to him. "My whole life, it's been 'if only'. If only I were white, or thin, or blonde. Someone or something other than me, then I'd be happy. Then middle school would have been better, or I'd be singing lead in a competition, or I'd have a boyfriend. That day a couple of months ago, when that assh-, um Mr. Schuester asked me to sing "I'm Not That Girl", I wanted to slap him silly. But singing that song turned out to be a good thing for me. That was the last day I cried about you, and a couple of other things I used to cry about. A lot of people helped me that day. Tina, she helped me realize there's nothing wrong with asking for help."

"I talked to my mom that day. I'd been avoiding her because I didn't want to answer "whatever happened to Sam" type questions. But we talked that night, about why you don't come around anymore, about how she felt moving here from Trinidad, a place full of black people to here where there's hardly any. And it was probably worse for her, before she lost most of her accent and nobody cared about cultural diversity back in the day. She met my dad in college, Marcus met his wife in college. I guess I'll meet my husband in college and that'll be okay."

"At dinner that night we had a long conversation about fairy tales, of all things. My mom went on a rant about "The Little Mermaid". She thinks Disney ruined that story, that the point was, it didn't matter how much the mermaid loved the prince, he was in love with somebody else and that was that, deal with it. And Blaine agreed. Then he went off on "The Ugly Duckling". About how people think it's about a duck that turns into a swan. But it's not, it's about a swan that's surrounded by people who can't or won't see him for what he really is. He just makes himself miserable trying to be what they want and he's not happy until he finds people who really see him. Then my dad said "Man, that's deep." That's a big time complement from my dad. And my mom said she had some clients that should stop running with ducks before it was too late."

"Then, later that night, Blaine knocked on my door to talk to me. He's never done that before, even though he's been there for months. We don't hang out in each other's room, if we're doing homework or something together we work in the dining room. The one time I was in his room he had the flu and kept throwing up. So anyway he asked me, if I'm not that girl, which girl am I? That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I'm not the girl standing beside you saying 'I do'. There's always another skinny blonde out there and I don't want to have to be on the constant lookout for her. I decided maybe I should concentrate on people who like me, for me, and try to build on that. Tim's one of those people. I don't know why you're crying over me all of a sudden, maybe I'll never know. I'm sorry you're unhappy but there's nothing I can do about it."

Car lights swung into the restaurant parking lot. "Is that your dad?" Mercedes asked.

"No, that's not his car."

Tim got out of the car. "You're still here! Is Blaine always that forgetful? Hey Sam, need a ride home?"

"No thanks, my dad's on his way."

"Okay. Mercedes," she was just standing there, looking at Sam, "are you riding with me or with Sam?"

"You might as well go with Tim." he said, "I'm on the other side of town now."

"Okay, goodbye Sam."

"Goodbye Mercedes." he said, turning to look out the window at a second set of car lights. "That's my dad now."

* * *

><p>"So, where did you see Blaine and Kurt?" Mercedes asked as she settled into Tim's car.<p>

"At a party." Tim said coyly.

"Ali had a party and didn't invite me?"

"I didn't say I was going to Alice's. I said I'd end up there. Alice doesn't care when I show up." At Mercedes puzzled expression Tim continued. "Alice worries about me. She figures gay guys run special risks from sketchy older men. As if girls don't. Anyway, this party was full of couples so I didn't intend to stay for long. Then I saw Kurt and Blaine dancing and remembered Blaine was supposed to take you home. I asked him about it and he gives me this blank stare, like he had no idea what I was talking about. So I came back. You might want to charge your cell phone."

"Thanks for coming back."

"It looked like I was interrupting something. Is it my imagination or did you once say you guys used to go out?"

"It's not your imagination and I don't want to talk about that right now."

"Or ever if you don't want to. So, do you want to come with me to Alice's?"

* * *

><p>"He's a fool and don't I know it" - Bewitched, bothered and bewildered – Pal Joey (Rodgers and Hart)<p>

"Even though we ain't got money - Danny's Song – Loggins and Messina

FF_2947886_ - Page 9 of 9 - Word Count: 2525


	12. Imitation of Life

Mercedes thought about a conversation she had last year with her then best friends, Kurt and Rachel. They were going to be the three musketeers. They'd be single and like it, they didn't need men, they had each other. That vow had lasted about 2 days. Before Mercedes knew it, Rachel had Finn and/or Jesse and Kurt had Blaine. In addition, Kurt had Rachel like Abercombie had Fitch. Mercedes had Mercedes and learned to like it that way. Prom night. Big. Fucking. Deal. In some sense a lot of her problems started at the prom last year. Sam. Sam and Mercedes were friends now, actually pretty good platonic friends once the they'd set the borders on their relationship. They could talk now, and that made her happy.

She wondered what Sam was doing tonight. Right. He was working and Mercedes was watching movies, alone. Not a bad night she had planned. Sappy chick flicks she could watch and not have to explain why. She didn't care if they were predictable, if you could guess the ending from the first scene. That's the advantage of being alone, nobody to explain anything to.

She had just popped in Love, Actually when the doorbell rang. Odd, her parents were out of town, she didn't expect company. She peeked out the window. A pizza delivery guy. She hadn't ordered pizza.

"I'm sorry." she said opening the door, "I didn't order a pizza. You must have the wrong address."

"It's a present." said a familiar voice. "I thought we could not go the the prom, together." He smiled sweetly. Sam had a killer smile.

"I don't eat pizza anymore. You know that." she laughed.

"Lucky thing for you." he opened the box. Movies! And what movies! A veritable classic black film festival. Stormy Weather with Lena Horne, Imitation of Life with Fredi Washington, Hallelujah with Nina Mae McKinney, Carmen Jones with Dorothy Dandridge. Damn, Sam had done his homework, he didn't just grab something from the red box on the way over.

"How the heck did you find those?" she asked picking up Hallelujah. The first all black, all sound musical from 1929.

"Ebay. You'd be amazed. So, are you letting me in?"

They sat in facing chairs watching Carmen Jones where Dorothy Dandridge was trouble with a capital T. They sat together on the sofa watching Stormy Weather where Lena Horne was sexy with a capital S. By the time they got to Imitation of Life she was nuzzled against his shoulder. Mercedes had never actually seen this movie before, she just knew the broad general outline, that it was about a black girl passing for white.

This movie was killing her. First Delilah, the mom, is too docile for words. Show a little backbone Mercedes wanted to yell. But this was 1934 after all, way before black pride, no sense in risking a lynching. No wonder the daughter, Peola, wanted to pretend she was white. That part made perfect sense. Now Peola's run away to live in the white world and Delilah just happened to see her working in a store. Delilah's rich, stinking rich, and can't understand why Peola didn't just ask her for money. And then a customer in the store asked Peola, who changed her name first thing, who Delilah is. Delilah say's she's Peola's mother. And Peola, this tall, thin, white-looking woman played by Fredi Washington, looks at Delilah, a short, heavy, dark-skinned woman played by Louise Beavers, and says "Does this woman look like she could be my mother?" Ouch!

"Damn, that was cold." Sam said. Then he noticed Mercedes was crying hysterically. He stroked her hair. "Shhh, shhh, shhh. Don't cry. It's just a movie. It's not like that anymore. Shhhh. Our kids would never say something like that. Shhh. Please stop crying, you're gonna make me start crying."

"That was just so..." she paused and sniffled. "You'd think that would never happen these days but Alice's mom used to get that. People used to think she was the babysitter, especially when she was out with Ben who's so white-looking. Not that Ben or Alice would ever deny what they are. That part's different. But-"

Now Delilah was literally dying of a broken heart, calling out for her baby. Finally Peola's running down the street and throwing herself on the casket, begging for forgiveness. The tears started again.

"I think that's enough." Sam said switching off the TV as the final credits rolled.

"I'm sorry." she said wiping her eyes. "It's just..." she trailed off.

"Listen Mercy, I can't promise that we'll name our kid Peola, but I can promise you this. Now matter what they look like they'll know who they are. Even if they turn out to be green-eyed blondes they'll be black and proud."

She leaned over and kissed him. "I don't know about the blonde part. Peroxide isn't passed on genetically you know."

FF_2947886_ - Page 3 of 3 - Word Count: 822


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